Soul's Poison
by Pharaohess
Summary: Non slash, three years preTPM A routine mission. An old villian. A kidnapping. A dark path. A race against time. The Dark Side is strong, but is the Light stronger? Is there an antidote to the poison of the soul? Can ObiWan be saved?
1. Politicians and Assassins

First Star Wars fic written and posted, so please be kind, and bear with it - it gets better, promise! Don't pay very much attention to the summary. (JediMindTrick) **It's not the summary that you're looking for. **(JediMindTrick)

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. But if anyone owns Obi-Wan, I'd appreciate the gift!...No? Ok then.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi was resisting drumming his fingers on his knee. If he did, it would be a mark of disrespect towards the debating politicians, and be very bad decorum for a Senior Padawan of the Jedi Order. Not to mention that Qui-Gon wouldn't be happy. Still, the debate before him was getting nowhere, and he wanted to go back to his temporary quarters in the Governmental Plaza and sleep. 

Beside him, even though the young man was completely still and apparently deeply interested with the discussion before him, Qui-Gon Jinn could sense his apprentice's boredom and restlessness through their Force-bond. Politics and politicians never had interested Obi-Wan, and the young man was evidently tired from the days official business and responsibilities.

Qui-Gon breathed calmly, deeply, trying to hide his sigh. _'Obi-Wan…'_

'_I'm sorry, Master,'_ came the prompt reply, respectful and apologetic. Almost immediately the feelings of boredom lessened, as Obi-Wan shut them out and turned his attention to what was being said, trying to be interested and forget his fatigue.

The Jedi Master almost smiled at Obi-Wan's reply – he was trying so hard to be a model Jedi, sometimes forgetting he was human. _'No, Obi-Wan, I'm not reprimanding you – I am _agreeing_. This has become tedious, to say the least.'_

Obi-Wan could feel his Master's amusement filtering through their bond, and he was grateful that his usually cool and calm Master's patience was beginning to fray. _'They have been making the same point for an _hour_ now…'_

The two Jedi had been summoned to the small, mid-rim planet of Jernosi, where the planet was having its planetary elections. The elections were held once every six years, but this time there had been suspicion between candidates, of corruption, bribery and foul play – so the previous Jernosian Assembly had requested Jedi representation for the new elections, to act as Guardians of Peace and overseers of the election. This had placated all involved and the allegations had ceased. All had agreed anyone who tried to do anything with Jedi around was insane.

They had been planet-side for five days, doing everything from background checks and security traces to sitting in on the debates and question sessions of the lead candidates. In Obi-Wan's opinion, it wasn't exactly the most stimulating of missions. He had found himself, while initially interested, to be tired from the menial work that needed to be done and craving sleep and meditation to centre himself.

The debate tonight was one of the major ones, two days out from the election, and it was broadcast planet-wide and attended by hundreds. It had been going on for a while now, as the two main contenders tried to get the public on their side, and the smaller parties tried to get their voices heard. Education, health care, security and everything else…it had begun to blur together for the younger Jedi. At least he wasn't falling asleep – Qui-Gon had taught him better than that – but he was just _bored_.

Next to him, Qui-Gon made a barely perceptible movement, shifting his hand slightly, betraying his slowly growing restlessness. _'I agree, my Padawan.'_

'Master, what do you think the outcome of the election will be? Public support seems to shift so quickly…' Every night the holo-news seemed to say something different, who would win, what the current polls were saying…it seemed to be whoever spoke last was the favourite at the time.

Qui-Gon had noticed the same thing, but thought he knew planetary politics a little better._ 'They will elect, the system will work, a government will be formed. Whether for good or ill will only be apparent in the future, not the here and now.'_

_'Yes Master, the Living Force, I understand.'_

Onstage, the politicians, much to Obi-Wan's private delight, were making their final statements. They bowed to their audience, and left the stage to thunderous applause. The crowd dispersed, the Jedi with them. Outside, the night was cool and clear – and late, Obi-Wan grimaced, looking at the time on a central dial. He'd probably only get a few hours sleep before he needed to rise.

With a shared thankful glance, the Master and the apprentice began the walk back to their guest quarters in the Governmental Plaza. There were other people around, their voices hushed in the lateness of the hour, discussing what had just been said in the hall and how they might vote. True to Obi-Wan's earlier comment, the support of the public always seemed to switch rapidly – it was impossible to guess which way the election might go.

As they walked, the streets became less travelled, many of those going home from the debate turning off towards the residential areas of the city, and soon it was only the two offworlders, their path taking them to the more exclusive paths of the Governmental Plaza, where they had been given an elegant apartment for their use while they oversaw the elections.

Almost as soon as they entered, Qui-Gon sat down at the table with his datapad, bringing up some files he had been looking over before the debate started. Obi-Wan slowed on the path to his private quarters and arched an eyebrow behind his Master's back.

"_More_ work, Master?" he asked lightly, changing his path to come over and lean on Qui-Gon's chair, looking over his Master's shoulder.

Qui-Gon nodded, typing in a few more system commands. "It is merely something I wanted to double-check, Padawan. Get some sleep."

"Are you sure, Master?"

Qui-Gon turned his head to look at his apprentice. The twenty-two-year-old beside him was obviously tired, but still willing to help should it be needed. Catching the drift of his Master's thought, Obi-Wan grinned at Qui-Gon, who couldn't help but smile back. "I am sure, Obi-Wan."

The Padawan nodded. "Alright Master, I'll see you in the morning." He left his position over Qui-Gon's shoulder, pausing in the doorway to his room and calling back over his shoulder. "Don't forget you need sleep too."

A grin flickered over Qui-Gon's face as he heard the door to Obi-Wan's quarters close softly. The boy – no, the young man – had been working tirelessly and without complaint ever since they had arrived. True, much of the work here had been administrative and menial, but there had been some physical requirements – Obi-Wan had acted as a runner today, for instance, taking messages to the participants of the debate to finalise topics and preparations. As a Jedi, he was seen as impartial, and Qui-Gon had been in talks with the previous Jernosian Assembly so had been more than happy to send him knowing that Obi-Wan would appreciate it more than additional sit-down-at-the-table politics. That, and he had been avoiding the daughter of one of the candidates, who had become rather…_infatuated_ with him, much to the apprentice's embarrassment and dismay.

Qui-Gon flicked his eyes back to the datapad screen. The files he was checking were merely administrative too, but he had wanted to double check a name which had come up in investigation…but his search proved fruitless, and soon he was considering talking his Padawan's lead and retiring to bed. Force knows he was tired, too, even if it did not show – he knew how to hide it from those he was with.

Speaking of sleeping…Qui-Gon reached out to the Force-bond he shared with Obi-Wan, feeling his apprentice's deep breathing and relaxed mind. Qui-Gon was always surprised how quickly and easily Obi-Wan could fall asleep, no matter where he was. He was dreaming, Qui-Gon could tell from the subtle waves in his student's mind.

Closing the datapad down, Qui-Gon stood from the table and took a moment to look through the bay window and out into the sleeping city. Lights flickered lazily from streetlamps, the air was still, and there was no traffic or noise. Considering how noisy and busy the city could be during the day, seeing it so still was an impressive contrast. At least the elections were almost upon them, and then this mission would be finished and they could return to Coruscant. At least.

Qui-Gon was about to turn away from the window when he felt a ripple in the Force, at the edge of his perception. Stopping where he was immediately, he reached out to it, letting the Force fill him. There was dark intent in the plaza tonight; the Force was warning him. Another ripple, bigger and darker, flickered across his senses. Not danger, not yet, but something.

Behind him, he heard a door open. Obi-Wan appeared, dressed and holding his deactivated lightsaber, coming to stand next to his Master at the window, peering out into the darkness. The only clue he had been in bed was his slightly ruffled hair. He looked up at Qui-Gon, who nodded. "I know."

Resting his hand on his own lightsaber, Qui-Gon motioned to Obi-Wan with his head, toward the door. "I think it is time for a midnight walk, my Padawan."

"Yes, Master."

Together, the two Jedi pulled on their dark outer cloaks, and left the apartment. Making their way to the lower floor of the building and out into the plaza itself, everything was quiet. The shadows were deep, as it was so early in the morning, and even the air appeared to be still. Master and apprentice walked quickly and quietly, covering as much distance as they could in a short space of time.

Both had stretched their consciousnesses out to the Force to guide them, to warn them, help them. They had sensed nothing since the initial feeling, and were trying to discern the location it came from. It had been close, in the Plaza itself, and had felt focused – a mind with one thought, one action, one motive.

Qui-Gon stopped abruptly a split second before his comlink activated. Glancing at his apprentice, who was curious as always, Qui-Gon answered. "Yes?"

"Master Jinn?" came the hushed reply. The person was obviously whispering. "This is Commander Aderos of the Plaza Security Force. We've been called to the apartment of Lena Owen – she said there was someone inside, waiting for her."

Obi-Wan frowned momentarily, listening in on the conversation. Lena Owen was the campaign manager for one of the lead two candidates. Resourceful and witty, an opinion on the streets was that her client wouldn't have got where he was without her.

"An intruder? We'll be right there, Commander." Qui-Gon closed the communication and started jogging, Obi-Wan beside him, towards the apartment building where Lena lived.

'_It feels…darker than a mere intruder or thief.'_

'Indeed it does, Obi-Wan. This is what the Force was warning us of.'

The building appeared empty, but the Jedi found the Security Force, Commander Aderos and a panicking Lena Owen in the stairwell landing of the floor of her apartment. Lena had been at the debate earlier that night.

Commander Aderos, a tall man with dark hair and a goatee, greeted the Jedi with a short bow. "This is Lena Owen," he introduced, as she moved to beside him. "She returned home to find an intruder in her apartment and called us. These buildings all have up-to-date security systems, but they've been bypassed without being deactivated. Hence my contacting you."

"Quite right, Commander." Qui-Gon replied in a low voice. He turned to Lena. "Miss Owen, how do you know there is someone inside?"

She struggled momentarily to not look panicked before answering. "The lights were on and I saw a shadow from inside. I turned the lights off when I left for the debate, I'm positive, and the door was locked – I've still got my keycard…I don't have a partner, so it's not them, and they haven't left yet, they seem to be waiting, and the desk clerk didn't say anything about my having a visitor, and I had this really bad feeling, so I called the Security Force, and they brought a rec-droid, and we saw him…" She trailed off as Commander Aderos placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Master Jinn, what do you think we should do?"

Qui-Gon shared a quick glance with Obi-Wan, before returning his gaze to the Commander. "He has no idea we are here?"

"Not that we can gather. We sent the rec-droid in as soon as we arrived, to check, and sure enough – there's someone in there. He's armed, and hasn't left. He _does_ appear to be waiting."

Beside his Master, Obi-Wan reached out to the Force to help him get a better understanding of the situation. The rec-droid – a tiny droid with a camera – was, in fat, still undetected by the intruder, and sitting by the door with a clear view of the room beyond. The intruder himself was armed with a blaster, and tense – perhaps he could sense something amiss?

Obi-Wan sent Qui-Gon his impressions and was rewarded with a feeling of agreement and pleasure through their bond.

"Commander, we must move now. He is growing restless, and is beginning to sense something is amiss. I suggest we go first," Qui-Gon said, motioning towards himself and Obi-Wan, "to subdue him with the least amount of fighting and damage."

The Commander nodded. "We'll be right behind you. Miss Owen, stay here." he set about finding men to stay with her as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan took a look at the feed of the rec-droid.

The intruder was pacing, a hand on his blaster, his face covered by a dark mask. He keep shooting unseeing looks towards the door and the rec-droid, obviously on edge. He was lithe and of muscular build, and as he turned, Obi-Wan caught the flash of a knife in his boot.

'_An assassin. Someone isn't happy with the elections.'_

'_No, obviously not. We must capture him.'_

_'Of course, Master. Wait…'_

Obi-Wan's command was well timed, for on the screen, the assassin suddenly stopped pacing and walked over toward the camera. Sharing a glance, the Jedi also shared the exact same thought. _'He's found it.'_

Sure enough, the view was suddenly tilted, lifted, and a close up of the mask shown before fingers appeared around the edge of the frame and the connection was severed as the tiny droid was crushed. As soon as it began, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had leapt into action, running down the hall as a technician alerted the Commander their droid had been found.

The door lock wasn't strong and gave way under a well-placed kick of Qui-Gon's. Both Jedi ran in, lightsabers glowing eerie blue and green, and found their quarry escaping through a window.

_'Obi-Wan! Follow him!'_

The apprentice obeyed without hesitation, swinging himself out of the window behind the assassin, as Qui-Gon ran back to the commander. The Security Forces were halfway down the hall, and pressed themselves against the wall to allow the Jedi Master to pass.

"Commander! He's escaped, out the western window. My apprentice is tracking him."

Commander Aderos nodded, knowing what needed to be done. As Qui-Gon sprang past him and down the stairs, he could hear the Commander taking charge.

"You two – take Miss Owen to the barracks, she'll be safe there. You – go to the room, out the window, follow Apprentice Kenobi. You three – secure the area. The rest of you, with me. Move out."

Back on the ground level again, Qui-Gon looked up at the western side of the building, searching for a flash of blue – there it was, a few levels below that of the apartment. _'Obi-Wan!'_

Obi-Wan was balancing carefully on the ledge outside the windows of the building, his ignited lightsaber in his hand as he followed the dangerous path of the assassin. Qui-Gon could see the assassin a level below his apprentice.

_'Master, he's going into an alleyway; I'm going to follow him. If you go to the south end of the plaza I can see an entry point for the alley.'_

Qui-Gon almost forbade Obi-Wan to follow, but he wasn't a boy anymore, but a capable and skilled Senior Padawan. _'All right, my apprentice. I'll meet you down there. Be careful, Obi-Wan, something is still amiss.'_

_'I feel it also, Master.'_

The blue bar that was the blade of Obi-Wan's sabre dropped from the side of the building, following a similar leap the dark clothed assassin had taken moments before. Qui-Gon watched it vanish, before running to the southern end of the Plaza. He thought he knew where Obi-Wan might mean, but if he was right, the apartment building was a long way down the length of it…shutting off his lightsaber and re-clipping it to his belt, Qui-Gon called on the Force to enhance his speed.

He had a feeling Obi-Wan would need help.

* * *

There we go, hope that was semi-decent in some way. 


	2. Traps and Droids

On, to battle and glory...and story.

* * *

Obi-Wan landed in a crouch, deactivating his blue lightsaber at the same time. He had landed in an alleyway at the back of the apartment building, following the path of jump the assassin had made. The assassin had vanished from view, so Obi-Wan quickly pressed himself back into the shadows of the wall, behind a pillar, reaching into the Force as he did so, slipping into a shallow meditative trance to seek out his quarry. 

He calmed himself and stilled his heart, rapidly beating from the chase. The assassin was behind a pillar twenty meters down, catching his own breath. He thought he had lost his Jedi pursuer, and thought he had a chance for a rest. Obi-Wan opened his eyes, letting his sharp sight pick out a sliver of a shadow on the wall a way before him. Keeping his deactivated lightsaber in his hand, he crept forward, masking his footsteps with the Force.

He was forced to duck back into the shadows when the assassin risked looking down the length of the alleyway, but the Force forewarned him of it and so he was not seen.

'_Master? I'm following him; should I ambush him or keep track of him?'_

'_Keep track of him, Obi-Wan. Lull him into a false sense of security.'_

The apprentice nodded, even though his Master was nowhere near him and did not see. He crept forward again, watching as the assassin cast one last glance behind him and ducked into an alcove. Obi-Wan ran lightly to the same place, entering a shadowy doorway in pursuit.

Through the doorway was an old warehouse of a kind. Discarded and broken plasteel bins and debris littered the floor, the windows were broken and there was hardly any light. Keeping close to the wall, Obi-Wan looked for any sign of the assassin, and caught a slight movement over in the corner. He held his lightsaber ready as he stealthily crept over.

The Force warned him of the blaster bolt before it appeared, and almost before he knew what he was doing, he had activated his lightsaber and reflected the bolt harmlessly into a wall. In the near darkness of the warehouse, the blaster bolt and lightsaber combined had given off enough luminescent light for Obi-Wan to see his attacker. Or rather, attacker_s_.

Three droids, unlike any Obi-Wan had ever seen, sat in the darkness of the warehouse in wait. They were almost spider-like in appearance, made of spiky black metal and with multiple legs. They had built in shield generators and two mean looking, inbuilt blasters. Obi-Wan gathered all this information in the instant between deflecting the bolt and rolling away in a Jedi defensive manoeuvre.

Three on one wasn't impossible, but it also wasn't easy. Obi-Wan's blade moved in a blur, deflecting the bolts and dealing attacks. The shields were impressive but not impenetrable, and a few hits from a lightsaber weakened them enough for them to flicker and die, leaving the droid unprotected.

Obi-Wan dived in under the blaster fire to slice cleanly through the middle of one droid, sending it to the ground in a pile of molten metal. One down, two to go. He turned to the other two, fending off the blaster fire as he did so, and charged towards the closer of the two.

This droid's shield was still fully intact, so Obi-Wan had to be quick and precise about his movements to deactivate the shield without leaving himself open to attack. An opening he took in the blaster fire cost him though, with a shallow, yet still painful blaster graze to his left shoulder. He cried out in pain, and felt a flicker of worry from the Force-bond.

'_Padawan! Obi-Wan?'_

'_Hostile droids, Master. They're covering the escape of the assassin – I've lost him.'_

Running down the alley towards the warehouse, Qui-Gon could feel his apprentice's guilt at loosing the intruder. _'No matter. I'm on my way.'_

Obi-Wan sent one of the remaining droids into the wall with a wave of Force as he hacked at the other. Stabbing the damaged droid at the base of the wall for good measure and safety's sake, the Jedi apprentice deactivated his lightsaber and felt out for any human presence nearby. The assassin, he could tell, was long gone.

Obi-Wan cursed quietly to himself and sat on a crate to await the arrival of his Master. He wound he had sustained wasn't deep, but it stung and moving his arm didn't help. He was about to use the Force to heal it when the supernatural power instead alerted him to an arrival.

Three more spider-droids swarmed in, their shields fully activated and their blasters held at the ready. Obi-Wan swung his blade up to and opening stance and paused, breathing deeply and calming himself.

All combatants moved at once – the droids started firing as Obi-Wan started forward. Like the others, he deflected their blaster bolts with ease, sending them into walls or into the shields of the droids themselves. He had almost reached them to deal more serious blows when one changed tactics and caught him off guard.

In one movement, the droid pointed its blasters not at him – but at the ground beneath his feet. Still deflecting the blaster fire from the other two, Obi-Wan didn't make the connection until the ground beneath him gave way suddenly, dropping him into the room beneath.

His lightsaber flew from his hand at the sudden fall, and he landed heavily, fully expecting the droids to fire on him from above, especially now that he was unarmed. Obi-Wan tried to spring back up but found his muscles refused to move quickly. There was a haze before him, white and semi-transparent, like thin smoke. It was a gas of some kind – and here he was, breathing it in!

Immediately Obi-Wan stilled his breath and attempted to clear his mind, but it was too late. His command of the Force slipped from him, and he sank to the floor slowly as the gas took effect, consciousness leaving him before he had completely collapsed.

* * *

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's guilt turn to determination as the new droids arrived. He could feel his apprentice, knew he was close to the fight now, and willed himself to run faster. 

He almost went straight past the shadowy doorway, but the Force guided him and he burst in, deflecting blaster shots as he did so. The spider-droids which turned on him were of unusual make, that was for sure, and their shield generators made them challenging but not impossible for the Jedi Master. The Force was telling him that Obi-Wan was around here somewhere – but where?

As he fought, Qui-Gon couldn't _see_ Obi-Wan anywhere. He reached out with his mind and found something blocking their connection. This was a great worry, and so the Jedi Master pushed himself to deal with the droids quickly and find his missing apprentice.

One was Force-slammed, crushed into a wall, one stabbed right through what passed for its torso and the other was sliced into more than two pieces. The droids dealt with, Qui-Gon deactivated his lightsaber and looked around.

"Obi-Wan?" He called. There was no answer.

He began to move, reaching out to the Force for guidance, looking for a sign, any sign or Obi-Wan. A glint of metal caught his attention and he used the Force to pull it to his hand. As soon as he saw it he knew what it was, but Qui-Gon was still pained with worst-case scenarios as he held Obi-Wan's lightsaber hilt in his hand. Obi-Wan _never _let go of it unless he had to.

This was a clear indication something had gone wrong. Hostile droids in a deserted warehouse, the obstruction to Obi-Wan through the Force, his apprentice's abandoned sabre, and the missing apprentice himself?

Qui-Gon's eyes alighted on the hole near the centre of the floor. It looked as if it had been created recently, and Qui-Gon headed over for further investigation. Part of him hoped to find a superficially injured Padawan, perhaps with a concussion, which might explain the mental hindrance, sitting embarrassedly on the ground beneath.

Leaping down to the lower room lightly, Qui-Gon looked around. There was nothing here, but kneeling down he wiped a thin trace of blood from the smooth floor. Obi-Wan's, he was sure of it – and hadn't he felt a jolt of pain through the bond, when Obi-Wan first told him of the droids? But if he had fallen, then he was still conscious enough to communicate mentally…unless he fell after the conversation, Qui-Gon reasoned with himself, and landed down here and…what?

Qui-Gon sighed, trying to work it out. As he did so, he suddenly felt tired, heavy. The Force nudged him with a warning and Qui-Gon opened himself to it. There were traces of a gas in the air of this room. Shaking off the effect from the diluted gas, Qui-Gon used the Force and a pile of rubble to aid himself in getting back to the warehouse, where he knelt in meditation, Obi-Wan's sabre hilt in his hands.

What had happened?

Obi-Wan had tracked the assassin, to this warehouse, where he was attacked by droids. He had been wounded in some superficial way, but had beaten the droids. More had come, he had fought, and he had fallen into the room below, filled with the gas. He had collapsed and…been kidnapped? Otherwise, he would still be there.

How had he fallen? Opening his eyes again, Qui-Gon looked at the hole. Blaster fire might do that – the droids? Had they been programmed to drop Obi-Wan into the gas-filled room below? Had this all been a trap for Obi-Wan? For Qui-Gon? For them both? And now his apprentice was missing, the assassin vanished.

Qui-Gon tried the Force-bond again, but there was still nothing. _Something_ was blocking him from his apprentice. A concussion might do that, but Qui-Gon had the feeling it was more than that, that it was a controllable and external force used on purpose which meant…which meant they knew Obi-Wan was a Jedi.

Kneeling on the floor of the deserted warehouse, droid carcasses around him, Qui-Gon's comlink chimed, the noise bouncing off the walls.

"Master Jinn, this is Commander Aderos. We found the assassin, near a gate heading out of the industrial zone to the west. He's dead, shot in the back by the look of it. We've searched the corpse but could find nothing."

Qui-Gon paused, momentarily distracted by thought of the missing Obi-Wan, and the fact that the only stable lead he had in the first place had, literally, been shot down. "Good work, Commander, but I'm afraid the situation had grown much more complicated. Obi-Wan was tracking the assassin and has vanished – I have reason to believe he was kidnapped."

There was a moment of silence from Commander Aderos. "Good Lord, Master Jinn. What do you require?"

"I need to get a message to the Jedi Council, on Coruscant."

"Immediately, of course." Commander Aderos signed off, leaving the Jedi Master in silence with his thoughts.

Qui-Gon stood, cast a last look around the warehouse and started walking back down the alleyway towards the southern entrance where he had entered. He had to tell the Council, as much as he dreaded talking to them, and wondered what they might do. With no links and no leads, the only thing Qui-Gon could think to do would be to come back in the daylight and search more thoroughly for any clue to Obi-Wan's whereabouts.

The thing that worried him most was that Obi-Wan's captor, or captors, might know of his Jedi status. What would they want with a Jedi? There was something about this whole mess that did not indicate a political feud or harsh feelings over an election. It was too big, to rash – to complicated for that. This was connected to something bigger, something outside the elections, Qui-Gon was sure of it.

The sky was beginning to lighten; it was early morning and the earliest of risers were beginning to awaken. Qui-Gon headed towards the communications department of the Plaza, where he found Commander Aderos awaiting him.

"Master Jinn – I'm so sorry to hear about Obi-Wan's disappearance. If there is anything my men or I can do, don't hesitate to ask."

Qui-Gon smiled sadly. "Thank you for the offer of help, Commander. Later today I might need some help I removing and examining the droid remains."

"Droid remains?" Commander Aderos looked puzzled.

"A group of hostile droids attacked Obi-Wan, and then myself, in an abandoned warehouse – the remains might hold some clues to where Obi-Was is."

Commander Aderos nodded. "I'll get some men onto it right away. In the meantime, I've arranged a communication to the Jedi Temple for you. It's ready when you are, Master Jinn."

"My thanks, Commander." Qui-Gon turned away and headed into the communications building. Better to do it now, he reasoned, while the worry hasn't taken hold as of yet and it is still shock. Plus, the faster he did it the faster help would come…and the faster Obi-Wan could be found.

Inside the communications department, Qui-Gon was about to open the channel to Coruscant and to Mace Windu, before he changed his mind and keyed in Yoda instead. Speak to either one, it didn't matter, they would both know soon enough. Opening the communication, Qui-Gon was relieved to see that not only was he received almost immediately, but that both Mace and Yoda were on the other end.

"Master Jinn, troubled, you are. Something wrong, there is. Tell us."

* * *

Yeah, I had Obi-Wan Jedi-napped . But who has he been caught by, and why? Will Qui-Gon find him before something terrible happens? Tune in next time...and please review! 


	3. The Council and Investigations

A third chapter. My thanks to all reviewers thus far, your comments are greatly apprectiated.

I still don't own Star Wars or anything connected therein. Damn.

* * *

"Master Jinn, troubled, you are. Something wrong, there is. Tell us."

Trust Yoda to pick up on it so quickly. Qui-Gon took a breath, ready to tell his story. Both Mace and Yoda were aware of the initial mission – the election supervision – and knew of the planetary circumstances, so there was no need for back-story, for which Qui-Gon was thankful.

He explained the events of the previous night – the debate, the warning of the Force, getting the call from Commander Aderos and the intruder in Lena Owen's apartment. Sending Obi-Wan to track the assassin out the window, following him down the alleyway – he even mentioned feeling his apprentice's pain through their bond. He finished with telling them of fighting the droids, Obi-Wan's abandoned lightsaber and the disappearance of him.

Yoda shook his head sadly. "Grave news, this is. Investigation required, it is."

"What of your bond, Qui-Gon?" Mace asked his friend. Qui-Gon shook his head.

"There is something blocking the connection, Master Windu. Mace," Qui-Gon was too worried to continue to bother with formalities, "I know something's gone wrong. There is something dark at work here."

"Assume, you do." Said the diminutive Jedi Master from the hologram.

"Master Yoda, the Force is telling me he is in _danger_."

Next to Yoda, Mace nodded. "Search for him, Qui-Gon. Remember, though – he is a capable young man. He may find his own way back. Keep faith."

"This was never a question of faith, Mace."

"I know, my friend. But if there is something or someone dark behind this, as you suggest, then you must tread carefully."

Yoda seemed to consider this, before sighing deeply and suddenly looking his age. "Feel danger around you both, I do. Send help for you, we will. Keep us informed, you will."

"Of course, Master."

"Kit Fisto and his apprentice, Bant, have just finished a mission on Onderon. I'll alert them to travel to Jernosi on the next shuttle. May the Force be with you."

"And you, Masters."

The communication ended. Qui-Gon sighed, still staring blankly at the place where the holographic forms of Mace and Yoda had been standing moments before. He knew he needed to sleep, but he had to get back to the warehouse and do a full search in the light. Maybe there was something he missed before; maybe there was a clue, a message. At any rate, he needed to get the droid remains to examine them anything was better than nothing at this point.

Turning from the room, Qui-Gon strode back outside, hearing the two lightsabers, clipped next to one another on his belt, softly bumping together. He could only pray that Obi-Wan was all right, that his captors – if that is what it was – didn't know of his Jedi abilities and use them against him. More than anything, he hoped he was all right, and as safe as he could be.

He reached out to the Force again, and then to Obi-Wan, but the connection between them was still blocked. He had hoped that it would be clear, that he could talk to his apprentice again, find out where he was…

Outside the building, a young man, a few years older than the missing apprentice, was waiting for him. He bowed sharply as Qui-Gon came out, and fell into step beside the Jedi Master.

"Master Jinn, I'm Lieutenant Jacksin. Commander Aderos asked me to help you with the collection and investigation of some droid remains? I've got a technical and mechanical team on their way down to the warehouse now, where they will await us. Are you ready to go now?"

Without faltering in his step, Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes, Lieutenant."

Together, the Jedi and the Lieutenant made their way back down the alleyway to the backdoor of the warehouse. Everything looked so different in the morning light to Qui-Gon. There was more rubbish and junk than he remembered, and the seemingly hidden door was quite visible in the light. There were footsteps in the soft ground, too – behind a pillar, then moving further down, and then moving behind another pillar, all close to the alleyway wall. Qui-Gon glanced down at them and guessed they were from Obi-Wan's tracking of the assassin.

Inside the warehouse, five other officers were crouched around various droid remains, muttering to one another and pointing to various pieces of the droid's structure. Nothing had been moved, Qui-Gon noticed. When they entered, the five all stood and inclined their heads respectfully to their superiors.

With a casual wave, Jasksin dismissed them back to their examining. Qui-Gon stood for a moment, his eyes trying to pick out a detail that he had missed the night before, anything that the darkness might have hidden, anything at all...but came up with nothing.

One of the officers was crouched by the hole in the floor, a hand resting on the edge of the blackened floor thoughtfully. Qui-Gon walked over and crouched next to her. She looked up as he came over, bowing her head respectfully to the Jedi Master.

"Master Jinn. My name is Selena Hyde, I'm a technician with the Plaza Security Force…this appears to have been made not long ago, but there's no other damage like it, just the one hole…" she trailed off, lines of thought etched on her forehead.

"Officer Hyde, how much do you know about it? Was it made only a few hours ago? Or was it longer than that?"

She bit her lip. "I'd say it's new – the concrete around the edge is still a fresh break, not dirtied or with any wear damage."

This affirmed Qui-Gon's suspicions. So the hole had been made during Obi-Wan's fight, and presumably the apprentice had fallen…Qui-Gon leapt back down to the room below, ignoring Selena's surprised gasp.

He could see so much more now. The room wasn't very large, and a door at the other end was slightly ajar. He hadn't seen it in the darkness. Beyond it was a small flight of stairs and more doors – one to a room adjoining the warehouse, the other to a derelict street beyond. Qui-Gon checked the stairs and found nothing, no traces of Obi-Wan.

He headed back into the warehouse, where the officers were now loading the crushed and slashed remains of the six droids onto an anti-grav sled for transportation back to their headquarters. Qui-Gon watched their progress, and caught Lieutenant Jacksin's eye. The young man walked over to him.

"We've got all the parts we could recover, Master Jinn. Officer Hyde told me you jumped down to a lower room – did you find anything?"

Qui-Gon reflected on the empty room below them. "No, Lieutenant, I did not. What are you going to do with the droids?"

The Lieutenant looked slightly confused by the question, but it vanished quickly from his face. "Whatever you want us to – I've been informed by Commander Aderos we are under your orders for now, in relation to the droids."

Qui-Gon turned to face Lieutenant Jacksin. "I want to know who made them and where they are from. They are like none I have ever seen before. Can you find that out, Lieutenant?"

"We've never seen anything like them either. Most of the memory cores seem intact, so we should be able to get something out of them, yes."

By now the officers had finished, and looked back to their leader. Jacksin nodded, and the anti-grav sled slowly moved away, back toward the Plaza. "They'll get right on it, Master Jinn, as soon as they're back at headquarters. I must go, I'm afraid – I'm providing security for a last-minute public appearance."

As he bowed and left, Qui-Gon's thought came back into order. The election! It was tomorrow. In light of the recent events, Qui-Gon had almost forgotten the original mission – the reason they had been here at all. He had to get back and check in with the Jernosian Assembly, though no doubt they knew by now what had happened in the past hours. It was still his responsibility to oversee the election, but maybe Kit and Bant could take over…

Speaking of which, if they had managed to get a transport from Onderon immediately, they would be here in a few days, two if the Inner Rim hyperspace routes were clear. Even though that did mean he would have to oversee the election himself, maybe they could take over initial supervision of the political transition. Part of Qui-Gon had been immensely relieved when Mace had said that he would send Kit and Bant – while Kit Fisto was younger than Qui-Gon in galactic standard years, the Knight was well-known by all around the Temple, for his relaxed attitude and humorous outlook on life. He could also be serious and was a formidable fighter. His apprentice, Bant, had been with him for seven years.

Bant was a Mon Calamarian. She was initially strange to look at, with her big silver eyes and salmon-coloured skin, but it was pushed aside by her caring nature and big heart. A very good friend of Obi-Wan's, she had been originally the Padawan of Tahl, a spirited human Jedi, one of Qui-Gon's oldest friends and whom he had loved. But Tahl had been killed on a mission, being caught and tortured by those on the planet she was trying to help. After that, Kit Fisto had taken Bant under his wing to continue her training, and helped her to get over her grief.

Together, they were a very good team, alike in so many ways, and he knew that Bant especially would do all she could to help find Obi-Wan. Kit also knew Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon knew he liked the young man. Apart from Tahl, who Qui-Gon missed greatly, he could think of no one better to help him now. Although he was sure Tahl could have told him where the droids came from in only a few hours…but this was no time to be dwelling on the past. He had to find Obi-Wan and still complete a mission.

He had arrived back at the entrance of the alleyway, walking as he was lost in thought. Qui-Gon swept a casual eye around the semi-deserted Plaza, before heading towards the grey dome that was the Security Force headquarters. There, he was met by a polite assistant, who took him down a maze of halls to the analysis rooms and laboratories.

The gathered droid remains had been spread on a metal table, covering it completely. Leaning over them with a magnifying glass was a woman a few years younger than Qui-Gon himself, her dark hair pulled back from her face.

"I've never seen anything like these before," she said, without looking up. "They're of a specific make, specialised, I'd say, and don't appear to have serial numbers or anything of the like." Now she did look up at the Jedi Master before her. "There's a droid expert on the way from maintenance. I'm Orla, by the way."

"I'm Qui-Gon Jinn."

She nodded, passing him a magnifying glass. "I haven't been able to find any insignia or numbers on the main plating, where it usually is. That strikes me as odd…"

"None at all? Are you sure?" said a new voice from the doorway. Orla and Qui-Gon both looked up from the table. A young man stood in the doorway, longish blonde hair tied with a cord behind him. "That's not just odd, Orla, that's downright weird. Sinnat Tyne, Master Jinn," he added, inclining his head respectfully.

Before Qui-Gon could respond, Sinnat had picked up a piece of one of the droids and held it up to the light. "Huh. It's an ion-cardio diode. That's unusual – and expensive. Whoever bought these droids has money."

"This is why Sinnat is invaluable," Orla grinned at Qui-Gon. "His droid knowledge is unparalleled." She turned back to the technician in question. "What about origins?"

Sinnat pulled a face. "That's usually where the markings and numbers come in. Have you sent a memory processor core for extraction?"

"No, not yet. We wanted you to see everything before we tampered." Orla caught the processor Sinnat tossed to her, and she left immediately. Sinnat looked up at Qui-Gon.

"Well, Master Jinn, on first look the droids are definitely expensive. Ion-cardio diodes aren't the cheapest thing ever. They also appear to have been _exactly_ the same, down to the last bolt, so it's not a madman who built his own – these were produced all at once. There has to be an insignia for the company somewhere. All droids have them, even if they're hidden." He leaned against the table, watching Qui-Gon with a glint in his eye. "I haven't ever come across these sorts of droids before. I'd like to meet the man who designed them, that's for sure."

"So what are we looking for?" Qui-Gon asked, coming over to stand next to Sinnat.

"Anything that could be counted as a symbol. Orla ruled out the plating, and that's where it usually is, so my guess is it's hidden in the central systems. Any engraving, any seemingly random pattern, any possible flaw in the metal, could be it. Droid designers are arrogant – they sign their work – so it _will_ be here, I can promise you that."

They set about their task, carefully picking up and examining every fragment, and carefully sorting the possible finds from the lost causes. For hours they worked, as each piece – and some were very small – had to be carefully scrutinized, twisted everyway to catch the light, and every millimetre inspected. Orla appeared every now and again, taking the pieces that were inspected but not deemed worth further investigation away for tests.

Qui-Gon was holding a piece of the blaster up to the light when Sinnat, who had been sitting at the table, close to the tiny pieces he was looking at, gasped and motioned him over.

"I think I've found it. Here, on a fragment of the primary core casing."

The series of scratches, shaped a little like a vertical eye, was too fine and clear to be a flaw in the metal. It was a definite symbol of some kind – though not one Qui-Gon recognised. Nest to him, Sinnat was scowling.

"I think I recognise it – if I'm right, it isn't good." He stood. "I'm going to pull up a datasheet on the company whose logo I think it is. Hang on." With that, he ran out of the room and down the corridor to a computer. In minutes, he was back, and he showed the datasheet to Qui-Gon.

"Arakyd Industries?"

Sinnat nodded, biting his lip. "Yeah. They make attack droids, probe droids, assassin droids, armoury droids – you name it. Hunter-killer droids, executioners, trackers. If it's deadly and droid-y, they'll make it."

Qui-Gon folded the data sheet up and put it in an inner pocket of his tunic. "Thank you for your help, Sinnat. Thank Orla, too. If you find anything else, contact me. I must get some rest – I am meant to be overseeing the elections tomorrow." He sighed – every minute spent here was another minute that Obi-Wan had to…endure torture? Work as a slave, or servant? Stay in captivity? Or had he, perhaps, already escaped, putting his Jedi skills to good use…?

He left the Security Forces Headquarters and headed for his own apartment. Stepping through the door brought back vivid memories of Obi-Wan…as he had been here so recently, there was still a Force-presence of him, lingering in the shadows. Qui-Gon sat before the wide window, dropping into a meditative posture.

Reaching out to the Force, he felt for his Padawan. No, their mind-link was still obstructed somehow. In his heart, Qui-Gon had the feeling that he was going to loose Obi-Wan forever if he didn't find him soon, if he didn't do something. There was a Force-induced foreboding that grew with every passing minute.

He breathed deeply, letting the Force fill him, clearing his mind.

'_Hold on, Obi-Wan.'_

* * *

Poor Obi-Wan, I'm so mean to him. Well, maybe we'll get an indication of how he is next chapter...if you're lucky... 


	4. Captive and Captor

My thanks to the kind works of my reviewers thus far. To those who read and don't review, that's cool, I don't mind, but a little comment is always appreciated, if you can.

Anyway, we get to visit our dear Obi-Wan this chapter...

* * *

Obi-Wan felt himself coming back to consciousness slowly, dragging himself up from the depths of darkness. He tried to open his eyes, but there was something pressing on them that prevented him from doing so. His head was hurting, and all his muscles ached something terrible, and he could feel…wire…his ankles and wrists were _bound_, his hands behind his back, with a thin wire-like rope, which cut sharply into his skin. Obi-Wan could feel a thin trail blood flowing form the wire-cuts, down his palm and over his fingers.

Mentally kicking himself for not thinking of it sooner, Obi-Wan reached out to the Force, feeling its warmth and letting it fill him, reaching out to Qui-Gon – but something stopped him. The link with his Master was still there, still present, but it was distorted somehow, blocked. He couldn't feel anything from it. It worried him.

The floor beneath him was vibrating, moving…a ship's deck? Bound and blindfold on an unknown ship, the Force-link blocked?

What had happened? Where was Qui-Gon? Where the Force was _he_?

Slowly, memories began to resurface, piecing themselves together. He had been chasing the assassin, and had gone into the warehouse, where there had been droids…hadn't he beaten them? He had been shot…a bolt grazed him, his arm…then more had come…there was the sensation of falling, then…nothing. Darkness.

Trying to relax and still his anxieties, Obi-Wan tentatively reached out to the Force. It was still there, still with him, unhindered and untainted, pure and white like it always was. It flowed around him, filling him, helping him piece together the events of the past few hours.

The changing target of the droid, shooting at the floor. The gas-filled room. It all came back with painful clarity. He had been dropped into a gas-filled chamber, been knocked out, drugged, been _captured_…

And now he was captive on an unknown ship, being taken to…Force knows where…and… He let his mind assess his body. The blaster graze was shallow and weeping under the torn edge of his tunic, the wires cut him sharply, but other than that he seemed to be unhurt. Confused and worried, but unhurt.

He was captive. Why? As a hostage? Did they know whom they had caught? His lightsaber was missing, the reassuring weight gone from his belt – but he had a vague memory of it flying out of his hand as he fell, so he did no think it was in the hands of his captors. The Force-bond block seemed to _suggest_ his captors knew he was a Jedi, or was it coincidence and they did not know at all?

He could do nothing bound and sightless. Using the Force, he could feel another presence – only one – and a dark shadow of danger, of darkness. The Dark Side of the Force was around him here, wherever _here_ was, and around the being he was with. Realisation hit him like ice. A Dark Force-user? The thought was chilling. Being captive was one problem, being captured by a Dark Side Force-sensitive was a different matter entirely.

He could hear, albeit muffled, fingers over a keyboard, a dramatic sigh, and movement coming from somewhere ahead of him. There were footsteps approaching him, stopping beside him. Pain suddenly lanced out of nowhere in his ribs, as he was kicked harshly. He cried out in surprise and pain; as he curled his body up to meekly defend himself. Another blow of pain to his chest and hands shot through him.

There was a harsh, short laugh, and the footsteps retreated, leaving Obi-Wan curled in pain. The kicks had been hard and uncaring, but he could sense no bone breaks, just heavy bruising. They had come out of nowhere – he couldn't sense them through the Force.

There was another round of typing, and then the footsteps began to come back. This time, Obi-Wan braced himself for pain when they stopped beside him, but the blows didn't come. A pair of hands seized his bound wrists and he felt himself being roughly dragged, pushed somewhere, there was the click of a lock, muffled footsteps and silence.

Reaching out with the Force, Obi-Wan was sure he was alone. Finally.

His hands were bound tightly, but Obi-Wan pushed himself up into a semi-sitting position and, planting his hands firmly on the ground, pushed himself back over them, managing to bring them from behind him to in front of him. Hands now in a position to help, he pulled off the blindfold and took a look at his surroundings.

It was a tiny room. It couldn't even be called a cabin – it was more a storage space of some kind. It was only just wide enough for him, but he could stand. There was nothing on the blank walls, no sign of a door or control panel – it must be opened from the outside.

Sighing, Obi-Wan looked down at himself. The thin trails of blood on his hands were almost dry, their redness offset against his pale skin. The wire was tightly bound, and Obi-Wan could se no way of getting off his hands without cutting them off or risking severely injuring himself. An assessment of his feet produced the same result – his ankles were thankfully protected from the cutting wire by his boots, but it was still tight and impossible to remove without help. His comlink was gone, as were the food and energy capsules he carried and his underwater breather.

Leaning back against the wall, Obi-Wan remembered his injured shoulder as he put weight on it. The tunic around it was singed and torn, and the wound itself was shallow, but red and bloodied. There was a risk of infection if he didn't deal with it, so, harnessing the Force around him, he pushed the healing warmth towards it and felt the pain begin to subside.

That taken care of, he let his mind drift to his situation. He was bound, captive, alone, and couldn't reach Qui-Gon. He had no idea where in the galaxy he might be, or how long he had been unconscious. He had no idea who had caught him, or why. There were so many questions and hardly any answers.

He couldn't cross his legs to meditate, so instead he kneeled, stilling his mind and descending to the calmness of the Force. The Force was telling him to wait, to survive, to endure. He knew Qui-Gon would look for him, and he was determined to take a chance of escape should it present itself.

Sitting deep in meditation, the Force warned him a split second before the unseen door slid open, and Obi-Wan was backhanded across the temple. He fell to the ground, his bound hands beneath him and their wire cutting into him again, as his head swam. The blow had made him instinctively shut his eyes, so a glance at his captor was lost, but as he risked raising his head, he was granted a blurry image of a cloaked figure above him, before he was kicked in the back of his neck and everything went dark.

* * *

He woke suddenly, Force knows how many hours later, in a dark cell of some kind. There was only limited light, but it illuminated enough for Obi-Wan to make out his surroundings. The cell was smooth rock, glittering black and cold in the dim light. There was no apparent door, nor window. A tiny grate by the roof circulated clean but stale air. 

His bonds were cut, the wire gone, and the blindfold had not returned. The cuts on his wrists ached but were paper thin anyway – irritating but not fatal.

The thing that worried Obi-Wan most was the pressuring feel of darkness that was here in abundance. It was the cold, harsh weight of the Dark Side. He pulled the light of the Force to himself for comfort, courage, protection – but it felt weaker here somehow. Nevertheless, it did lessen the darkness slightly.

Obi-Wan sighed, sitting in the corner of his cell. He had tried to reach Qui-Gon again, but he had still got…nothing. Maybe part of it was battle fatigue, but he doubted it in his heart as he curled himself up and tried to sleep.

His dreams were dark and terrible, full of long since buried memories and death. He woke, cold and uncomfortable, unrested, a few hours later. He wasn't completely sure of the time frame, but his body was telling him it had only been a few hours, that was for sure. He had no way of telling what the time was outside his prison.

A sharp slap to the face woke him. He couldn't remember falling asleep again, but it did not matter. What _did_ matter was the man who stared down at him, a twisted smile on his handsome face, blue eyes that burned with cold fire. The same face that had leapt into an acid pool, ten years before…

His voice caught in his throat form horror. "_Xanatos_?"

Xanatos smirked down at his prisoner. "Obi-Wan! You remember me! I feel _honoured_," here he spat the word like it was poison, "and I'm so glad you're my…guest."

"How?" It was all he could think to say. Obi-Wan tried to stand, but horror and shock had frozen him in place. Xanatos had died, burning beneath acid…

Ten years ago, on Telos, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had chased him to the acid pits…Obi-Wan had seen Xanatos leap into an acid pit rather than be caught by Qui-Gon and taken for trial – he said that if he died the Qui-Gon would never get the satisfaction of catching him. Xanatos had _died_…

Xanatos could obviously guess his line of thought. "I always have a back door, surely you know that by now. It wasn't acid, not _that_ one. I had it neutralised days before. I lead you to there, I governed that battleground. You _thought_ you saw me die painfully. It's not that easy." He laughed. "But here I am."

Obi-Wan couldn't help but be stunned by this turn of events. He and Qui-Gon had thought Xanatos dead, the bad end to a long feud. To find out it had been a charade, a game to him, was…_sickening_. Xanatos was evidently enjoying Obi-Wan's discomfort, standing above him with a smirk on his face.

"Do you like your room?" Xanatos placed a hand on the wall of black stone by him. "Do you recognise it? It's Malab, from Telos IV." He turned to look at Obi-Wan again, loathing and hate clearly showing in his blazing eyes. "It reminds me of home," he said, in a dangerously quiet tone. "A home that you took from me."

The last time Obi-Wan had seen Xanatos, when they thought he had died…Xanatos had been a hero on his homeworld, Telos IV, but had been deceiving his people and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had shown them the truth – Xanatos had run as the society had demanded he be brought to justice. He had run to the acid pits, they had fought…

"And now your beloved Master will come for you, won't he? How much closer have you become in the intervening years? Much, I daresay." Xanatos' voice became low and harsh. "And so he'll die along with you." Xanatos turned on his heal as Obi-Wan sprang up to attack him, only to be repelled by an unseen wave. "Don't try it," Xanatos warned, sneering over his shoulder. "This place _amplifies_ Dark Side power. You really _can't_ beat me this time." Laughing maliciously, he placed his hand on the wall and it turned clear, allowing him to step through. He noticed Obi-Wan's surprised reaction.

"Yes, just like the ones on Bandomeer, all those years ago." He sucked a breath in between his teeth and looked melodramatically wistful. "That was the first time I met you. You found these walls there, didn't you? Except _this_ one activates with Dark energy, not just the Force. Which means, little Jedi, you're completely trapped, and completely at my mercy." The wall became solid again, but it couldn't block out Xanatos' laughter as he walked away from his prisoner.

Obi-Wan scowled at the wall where his captor had vanished. Xanatos…still alive. It was a shock to be sure, and a worry. Qui-Gon didn't know, didn't know where his apprentice was or what had happened. Thank the Force Obi-Wan had told his Master of the droid attack…at least it would give him some vain, some slight clue. Where was he now? Was he waiting for Obi-Wan, for a message from his apprentice? Was he searching in vain in the abandoned warehouse for a clue? Or was he on his way already?

Obi-Wan could only see this small room. Was it possible that he was still on Jernosi? It was more likely, it being Xanatos, that he was on some obscure planet in the Outer Rim, far away from civilisation and the Republic.

Held captive, Force knows where, by a supposedly dead madman.

Obi-Wan sat back down against the wall of his cell and put his head in his hands. This wasn't good. Actually, 'wasn't good' wasn't even close. Lifting his head slightly, his gaze fell on his cut wrists. He should do what he could, at least. He was a Jedi. He would make the best of this bad situation, meditate, conserve his strength – and escape and survive. Xanatos would not have the pleasure of killing him or Qui-Gon.

The Force here wasn't the bright white light he was used to. It was still there, still present, but weaker somehow, and harder to reach out to. It slipped from Obi-Wan's grasp even though he could feel it. It took Obi-Wan three or four patient tries to gather the Force-energy he needed to help heal the cuts, and the effort left him slightly drained.

His ankles unbound, he could, at least, meditate properly. Relaxing his mind, he leant with a straight back against the cool stone, releasing himself into the Force. Here, it was peaceful. Definitely more calming than the cold, depressing cell. Obi-Wan let himself fall deeper, away from his situation, away from the darkness, away from reality. Somewhere in the trance, it became sleep.

Calmness turned to nightmare. Light to dark. Peace to chaos.

Obi-Wan could feel the darkness, the dark energy of this place, of Xanatos, all around him, suffocating, pressuring. The light was gone and would not return. He was alone, no Force, no strength, as the darkness tormented, reminded, brought up old hurts and forgotten memories, memories Obi-Wan had thought he was at peace with.

He was sent away from the Temple, his home. _Unwanted._

He gave his sabre to Qui-Gon on Melida/Daan. _Disloyalty._

Bruck Chun's lifeless body stared up at him from the base of the waterfall. _Murder._

He was being memory-wiped by the Syndicate. _Weak._

Bant was trapped at the bottom of the pool. _Helpless._

He was going to be executed by Xanatos on Telos IV. _Criminal._

Qui-Gon was tortured by the mad scientist. _Guilt._

Tahl died, killed by the people she tried to help. _Betrayal._

Cerasi fell to blaster fire in the square. _Failure._

Qui-Gon treaded on the edge of the Dark Side, overcome by grief. _Master._

He was never good enough. He worked so hard, tried to meet the heavy expectations upon him, tried to be what he should be. But it was never enough. Not when he was twelve, trying to prove himself to Qui-Gon. Not now, at twenty-two, trying to prove he had taken the lessons on board.

He was alone. Qui-Gon was with him mentally. No, their Force-connection was blocked. Qui-Gon still blocked him out, like when Tahl had died, didn't let him help, just left him on the outside…it hurt to think he wasn't trusted…

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. He could feel tears in them, brought on by the dark thoughts, but they were easily blinked away. He shook his head slightly to dispel the remnants of the nightmares. They weren't true, they were just brought on by the Dark energy that was in this place.

Obi-Wan unconsciously brought out his stone. It was a river stone, from the River of Light on Qui-Gon's homeworld. Qui-Gon had given it to his apprentice for his thirteenth birthday – Obi-Wan had originally thought it only a rock, but it was actually Force-sensitive, and had helped him retain his memory when the Syndicate tried to memory-wipe him. He kept it in an inner, hidden pocket of his tunic, near his heart. Now he brought it out and pressed it between his hands.

It brought warmth and light to him, as well as a shadow of the presence of Qui-Gon. The darkness receded slightly, and Obi-Wan cast the bad memories aside. The things that had happened, that had been done, that he had done – failures and successes both – had helped him grow, helped him learn, and were in the _past_ – there was nothing that he could do about them now. He had to focus on the _here and now_, the Living Force.

Putting the stone back into its pocket, Obi-Wan tried to sleep.

The Living Force. The here and now.

Right here, right now, he had to survive this.

* * *

Dun dun dun...my poor Obi-Wan. I'm so mean to him. And yeah, it's Xanatos...(if you've read the _Jedi Apprentice_ series, it will make sense. If not, that's cool, I think I said everything you need to know) Reviews make the world turn! 


	5. Friends and Help

Thank you so much to all those who reviewed - your comments were encouraging and lovely.

Disclaimer: I wish...

* * *

Qui-Gon's mind wasn't on the political talks and excited whispers that were rife in the Plaza the next day. He listened without understanding, letting his mind wander. It was un-Jedi like, he knew, but this mission no longer felt right without Obi-Wan's soft complaining of politics and cynical opinions on everything. Duty came first – _what about duty to your apprentice?_ – and so he had to overlook the election like the mission briefing has specified. After today, he would be free to find Obi-Wan. And with the likely possibility of Kit Fisto and Bant here in the morning, something would definitely get done.

Qui-Gon watched distractedly as two more people in the Plaza hurried off to vote. By tonight, this would all be over. No more politics, no more mission.

The day passed slowly. Qui-Gon spent much of it going over an over again the little he knew of Arakyd Industries in his mind. He had heard the name in passing before – hardly surprising, as they were one of the biggest manufacturers of droids in the Republic – but knew nothing more than the datasheet he had read from Sinnat.

True to what Sinnat had said, Arakyd Industries specialised in battle and attack droids, probes and trackers, and the generally more violent kind. They had a few lines of protocol and servant droids, that was true, but for the major part they specialised in warfare and types of droids used by those who flew under the radar. Their main factories were on one planet in the Republic's Colonies – Kelada – a planet about three days travel away. Qui-Gon was sure that going here would provide clues to his Padawan's whereabouts.

If he could find out who ordered and designed the droids, and where they were, then maybe it would lead to Obi-Wan…with their Force-link closed, it was the only lead Qui-Gon had, so he was going to do what he could as soon as he could.

Qui-Gon opened his eyes. The night outside was pitch black, the stars hidden by dark cloud. He was sitting facing the bay window again, the same place where Obi-Wan and him had meditated together not two nights ago…

The day had been long but uneventful; the elections had gone without a hitch, the results were in and a new Assembly would be sworn in the next morning. After the new Assembly was established, the mission was over, and Qui-Gon could begin his search for Obi-Wan.

His mind couldn't – wouldn't – calm for meditation, so Qui-Gon gave up on it and lay, awake and restless, on his sleep couch. A part of him told him he shouldn't worry about Obi-Wan so much – he had grown from a promising boy to a highly skilled Senior Padawan, adept with both the Force and a lightsaber, who could negotiate well and, overall, could _survive_. Of that, Qui-Gon had no doubt.

Then why was the Force impressing the importance of finding him? This bad feeling squirmed in Qui-Gon's heart: something was wrong here. The assassination attempt (he was sure it had been a fake, a trap for them), the strange droids, the gas remnants in the underground chamber?

These thoughts in mind, Qui-Gon fell into a shallow and uneasy sleep. His dreams were strange and tormenting: mutilated memories of Obi-Wan leaving the Jedi Order on Melida/Daan, of Xanatos, of Tahl's death…his failures, Obi-Wan's failures…mistakes, what could have happened, what could have been…and underneath it all was the feeling of being watched, followed, suffocated by something he couldn't see…

Qui-Gon jolted awake. Thin streaks of pale light were breaking the clouds – dawn. Shaking the dream off – he never dwelt on dreams – Qui-Gon rose and looked out the window. The Plaza below was deserted.

After two hours of shallow and non-fulfilling meditation, Qui-Gon found himself talking to the leader of the new Jernosian Assembly. He didn't catch her name – the woman was very efficient and only mentioned it once – but she dismissed herself with an elegant wave and apology – she had much to do, you see, _so_ sorry she couldn't stay to chat longer…Qui-Gon gratefully let her leave with a respectful bow.

As he stood at the side of the hall and watched the ceremony, mostly in an ancient dialect he only understood half of, he caught a movement out the corner of his eye. A backdoor to the Assembly hall swung silently open, and two figures entered. Even from the corner of his eye, Qui-Gon could tell who they were, and relief descended over him, even though he did not show any sign of it or of seeing the figures. Attention drawn to the stage, no one else in the hall seemed to have noticed the stealthy entry of Jedi Master Kit Fisto and his Padawan, Bant Eerin.

Qui-Gon could feel their eyes on him, and he felt the Force swirl around him. He pushed it back in reply and recognition, waiting for the ceremony to end.

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Bant shifted slightly next to her Master. It would have been almost imperceptible to anyone watching, but Kit could read his Padawan's moods easily.

'_Still yourself, Bant. We'll find him.'_ There was no reproach in his thought, only comfort and gentleness.

'Yes, Master…I'm just worried…' 

'_I know you are, my Padawan. I, too, like Obi-Wan…spirited, if sometimes a little to serious – but that's Qui-Gon's influence on him. Speaking of which – what do you notice about Master Jinn?'_

Bant let herself study the Jedi Master momentarily without seeming to. _'There are vague shadows under his eyes, his hands appear relaxed but are tense, and his eyes are glazed over – he's not listening to the ceremony.'_

Kit smiled approvingly._ 'Very good. Meaning?'_

'_He's as worried as I am. More, even.'_

The Nautolan suppressed a mental sigh in concern for his friend. Qui-Gon may be older than him, true, but Kit had seen the man beneath the supposed cool and maverick exterior._ 'I suspect out colleague has not been sleeping well these past few nights. He's pleased to see us.'_

The ceremony ended soon after, and the crowd dispersed. Qui-Gon was one of the last to leave the hall, being thanked by the Jernosian Assemblies – both past and present – and politely declining their invitations of celebration. Instead, he walked quickly but calmly out into the now sunlit Plaza.

Leaning against a nearby building, his legs crossed at the ankle and his hood over his face, was Kit. Kit had always had a flair for the dramatic, and now was no exception. Bant was sitting on a low wall near him.

He took his hood down from his tentacled head as Qui-Gon approached, flashing the casual smile he was known well for. Beside him, Bant jumped up and bowed to the approaching Qui-Gon at the same time as her Master. Qui-Gon retuned the respectful gesture.

"Master Jinn. I take it you are well?" Bant asked politely.

Qui-Gon almost replied, but before he did, something gave way. The calm, collected mask he had in place during the ceremony shattered, and he sank down on the wall, suddenly looking weary and despairing. Kit sat down next to him, Bant with her Master.

"I don't know what to do, Kit. The Force is trying to tell me something's wrong…I can't reach Obi-Wan…and I've been stuck here completing our mission…"

"Come on, Qui-Gon. Let's get back to your quarters," Kit said gently, and the three Jedi left the open Plaza.

Qui-Gon keyed the door open, and motioned for Kit and Bant to make themselves at home, before sinking down himself onto one of the couches.

'_Padawan? See if there is anything to drink in the kitchen, please.'_

'_Yes, Master.'_

Qui-Gon watched her go, and then looked at Kit as he sat down across from him. "That's the biggest problem, Kit. There's something blocking the Force-bond, our connection…it hasn't been cut off – it's still there, but it's _muffled_, almost…"

"How long has it been like that?"

"Just over two days. Since he went missing."

Kit pulled a rare scowl, as Bant re-entered with a drink for each of them. Qui-Gon took his gratefully with a soft work of thanks, drinking deeply from the glass as he heard Kit speak.

"Qui-Gon – tell us everything."

And so, after a pause, he did. The initial mission, their work towards the elections, the debate and the events that took place afterwards. The assassination 'attempt' of Lena Owen, Obi-Wan following the assassin, his apprentice's last few messages, the fight with the droids. Everything he had found out from then on – investigating the droids with Sinnat, the marking, Arakyd Industries…

Kit looked thoughtful as he finished. "Well, Kelada is as good as a place to start as any. It will take us about three days to get there. I know a little of Arakyd, though no more than what you do already."

Bant, who had been silent through Qui-Gon's story, now spoke up, her silver eyes focused on him. "Qui-Gon, do you think he is all right?"

He smiled sadly at her, seeming to look at her and past her at the same time. "Our bond is still intact, so he is not dead. I felt some pain through the link before he disappeared, but I think it was superficial. I'm sure he's fine, Bant. Obi-Wan knows how to look after himself."

Kit stood. "Our ship is ready to leave whenever, Master Qui-Gon. I take it you would prefer to go sooner than later? Now?"

Qui-Gon nodded lost in thought, then came back to himself and looked between the Master-Padawan team before him. "What about the two of you?"

"We're fine, Master Qui-Gon," Bant said, standing next to her Master. "We assumed you would want to be off as soon as possible so the ship's checks are done, and we brought none of our own things with us here."

Qui-Gon silently praised the effectiveness and organisation of the both of them. "Thank you. I will collect my own things – and Obi-Wan's. We should be ready…" He trailed off at a knock at the door. A moment later, a messenger entered.

"This just came for you, Master Jinn." He held out a parcel, which Kit took. A bow later, he was gone. All eyes turned to what Kit held, who turned it over gently in his hands. "There's no information regarding the sender, Qui-Gon."

He handed it over to the Jedi Master, who opened one end lightly. He looked in and sighed shakily, closing his eyes, as he brought out a folded piece of material, a rich brown in colour. "It's Obi-Wan's Jedi cloak."

Bant recognised it – the same cut and colour as her own. She wondered what it could mean, and turned her attention to the two Masters.

"Is there anything else?"

"No, nothing. No note, no message…this means they knew where I was, though, and that I would still be here now…"

Kit crossed his arms, looking troubled as Qui-Gon replaced the cloak into the wrapping it had come in. "We should get going."

Qui-Gon nodded, moving into his private quarters of the apartment to pack his own things. Jedi travelled light anyway, having no person possessions of their own, and it did not take him long. The cloak he put with Obi-Wan's things had he cleared from his missing Padawan's room.

Within ten or so minutes, the team of three Jedi were making their way to the Plaza hangar. There was a call behind them, and Qui-Gon turned to see Commander Aderos, Lieutenant Jacksin and Sinnat waving to him, coming from the Security Headquarters. Without a work, Kit took the things he was carrying and walked on towards the hangar.

"Master Jinn! You're leaving?" Commander Aderos asked.

"I am, Commander. Sinnat and I discovered an Arakyd Industries logo on one of the droids that attacked Obi-Wan and I. My companions and I travel to Kelada."

The Commander nodded. "Well, thank you for all the work you – and your apprentice – did here for us. Luck for your search, Master Jinn. And luck for Obi-Wan."

"Thank you for your help."

He turned away, towards the hangar and Kit and Bant's waiting ship – a _Theta_-class T-2c shuttle, the sort the senators used for personal business – fast, efficient and solid. Kit saw Qui-Gon watching the shuttle as he entered the hangar.

"Valorum owed us a favour, and so we got this. She's got a class 1 Hyperdrive, good handling…she'll get us to Kelada and beyond."

The two Masters boarded. Bant was sitting in the co-pilot's seat, running final system checks. "We're ready, Master."

"Good. Strap yourself in, Qui-Gon – the journey will take three days, and we start now."

The shuttle purred to life, lifting off and heading for the outer atmosphere of the planet. Kit, in the pilot's seat, took them to clear space, where the stars stretched out into the lines of hyperspace and the craft started its journey across the galaxy.

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So, the search has begun...reviews make me happy!


	6. Pain and Torture

Another chapter!

Thanks to all who have stuck with this story. It will get better, I promise!

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_Pain._

It arced through his body, lifting him clear of the ground, as his mind was agonisingly and instantly drawn back to harsh reality and its nightmarish servant, Xanatos. His bones were on fire, his muscles being ripped apart…abruptly, the pain receded, and Obi-Wan was dropped unceremoniously back onto the cold floor of his prison, where he lay winded, trying to drive the pain from his limbs.

When the pain had lessened enough for him to open his eyes, he saw Xanatos standing gleefully above him. "Good morning."

Obi-Wan didn't answer, but instead gingerly raised himself to his feet, to stand facing his captor. A shadow of a smile flicked across Xanatos' face. He was leaning against the energy-reactive wall casually, his black cloak draped around his shoulders.

Obi-Wan ran at him, determined to overcome his captor in a surprise attack and escape. Xanatos appeared to be unarmed – he didn't have his lightsaber – and therefore there was a possibility of escape. It was a chance Obi-Wan seized with both hands. Xanatos raised an eyebrow slightly as his captive approached. Lifting a hand as if to inspect his fingernails, he flicked it out towards Obi-Wan at the last minute.

Ice blue lightning shot from his fingers and sent Obi-Wan crashing to the floor. The pain was intense, burning through him like black fire, searing his very soul. He curled himself up in a vain effort to ward the pain off and protect himself, but it made no difference to his agony. He was going to pass out, he was sure of it…but as he felt the darkness approaching it faded, and he was left in bitter consciousness.

"Come now, I wasn't going to let you off that easily, Obi-Wan." Xanatos spoke softly, dangerously, from where he was. "Where would the fun be?"

Still lying on the ground, Obi-Wan tried to mentally prepare himself for the next burst of power. Xanatos' command over the Dark Side was incredible, the power he held immeasurable. Xanatos had said this place amplified Dark Side energy. It showed.

He tried to call on the Force to help him – it was there, as always, but he couldn't grasp it properly, and it almost slipped from him. He managed to still himself and let it come back, helping him, strengthening him, as Xanatos unleashed more lightning. This time, he could withstand it – barely – and tried to push through it. Xanatos saw his resistance and merely smiled, as the energy increased and his vague Force-shields shattered. He was flung across the room this time, into the wall.

He dropped to the floor like a rag-doll, landing heavily. The pain from the fall was nothing compared to that of the lightning. It still gripped his limp figure, even though the lightning itself was physically gone. It was searing ache, deep in his being, as his skin was burned by invisible fire.

Obi-Wan had closed his eyes – they were still closed as he heard Xanatos laugh coldly and his footsteps fade into silence. The seconds stretched into minutes as he lay, gasping for breath, at the base of the wall. Once more alone, the pain began to fade properly, until it became a dull ache through every nerve.

Gingerly, Obi-Wan opened his eyes and sat up limply against the cell wall. With trouble, he managed to calm his mind and use the Force to release the pain from his body. It lessened, but did not leave him. He felt numb, sitting against the cold, black stone. His mind couldn't seem to comprehend the pain that had been coursing through him, didn't seem to register what had happened.

_Escape was impossible. _If Xanatos was that powerful, and the cell only opened to Dark Side energy, then Xanatos had already won. Unless he made a massive mistake of some kind – it was possible, considering Xanatos' arrogance – which Obi-Wan could turn to an advantage. It in itself was unlikely, as Xanatos had demonstrated how easy it was for him to stave off an attack.

Trying to put these morbid thoughts out of his mind, Obi-Wan realised he was shaking. Clenching his fists, trying to stop, he breathed deeply, as his mind settled on his aching body. It…_burned_. Dull now, but constant: a pain right through his body, agonising and irremovable. He had to sleep – to get away from the pain, hide from it…

Gently, as every movement caused a reminder of the pain, Obi-Wan lay down on his side and tried to sleep, tried to relax. He tried to remember the teachings of the Jedi about healing and pain, but his mind wouldn't work…he couldn't think straight…he was so tired…exhausted…

He was walking through white ice, but could feel burning fire…there was something ahead of him, he was following it…but it hurt so much to keep going…he wanted to give up, but _knew_ he had to follow…the ice around him was darkening, becoming black stone…he was lost in a maze of darkness, his quarry gone…he called but no one replied…he came to a junction, turned into another, darker corridor…then Bruck Chun was before him, red lightsaber ignited, attacking…he stabbed Obi-Wan through the chest…

Choking back a gasp, Obi-Wan woke in cold sweat. As soon as he moved, sitting back up, the fire of pain returned deep in his nerves and he bit back a curse. He wondered vaguely how long he had been asleep – if it could be called that – and how much time had passed in total.

He was hungry, had already considered the high possibility of starvation while here. Xanatos was not the most accommodating of captors; if he tortured his captives for his own fun and amusement, it was likely that sustenance of any kind was far down his list of concerns. Obi-Wan would have to get through.

_Or die of starvation._ He pushed the thought from his mind. He would not die; he would not give Xanatos the satisfaction. Instead, as he had done so…Force knows how long ago, he pulled out the Force-sensitive river-stone, holding it between his hands and savouring its warmth. It wasn't much, but it was enough to hold some of the darkness at bay, letting him find the Light Force to rest and heal somewhat. More of the burning fire was pushed from his limbs as the Force helped him. There was something not right about it, though.

It felt weaker, slippery, oily almost. It was still Light, but tainted, changed by where he was. It made it harder to hold onto, but Obi-Wan could – just – do it.

The silence was deafening, the darkness deep. It was almost like sensory deprivation. Obi-Wan sighed against the wall, trying his Force-link with Qui-Gon again with vain hope. It was still blocked. Part of him was hoping Qui-Gon was out there looking for him, that he would find him, help him escape from this waking nightmare. The other part of him feared for Qui-Gon, as he did not know what he was about to walk into, or who was waiting for him.

Sleep was gone from him, so he was alone, awake, in the darkness. It was deep, claustrophobic and overbearing, pressing down on him, on his soul…Obi-Wan found himself remembering the nightmares from earlier. The missions he had been on, the things he had seen, had done. The destruction that had reined, the death, the pain he had endured and perceived. The time when the Jedi had been wrong, and what had happened thereafter. There was so much darkness in the galaxy.

All the bad memories. Jedi were not supposed to live in the past, true, but the past did not want to leave him. Bruck had died – _he had killed another apprentice_ – Bruck had turned, and was no longer an apprentice but a threat. And it had been an accident, he had slipped on the rocks, fallen…Obi-Wan had tried to catch him. Cerasi, shot down in front of him…she only tried to do good, to unite the warring factions of her planet; was that so wrong? Did she deserve death?

Obi-Wan could recognise the shadow of inexplicable depression that threatened in the back of his mind. Jedi did not get depressed! He could not let it get to him – it would be another victory for Xanatos if he became emotionally broken.

One thing was bothering him, as much as he didn't want to think of it. Why was Xanatos keeping him alive? Xanatos could have killed him many times over. Was there some master plan that Xanatos had? Was it to make him, and so Qui-Gon, suffer? Had Xanatos caught the wrong Jedi and was playing with the one he had, toying until he could catch his primary target? Or did he plan to kill Obi-Wan in front of his Master as a final act of vengeance? Was he to be a tool in Qui-Gon's suffering? There was more to this, but the answers eluded Obi-Wan's tired mind.

Every time Obi-Wan tried to close his eyes, for sleep or meditation, Bruck's face appeared in his mind, pulling him back to reality. His body was exhausted – the sleep before had not helped, unsurprisingly – but his mind was restless. There were so many concerns, so many questions without answers.

The windowless cell gave no indication of time. He guessed he had only been here for a few hours, the most part of a day, perhaps, but not much longer. It felt like years, but Xanatos couldn't have left not five or ten minutes ago.

Xanatos. Mad, murderer, clever. A dangerous mix. Obi-Wan had been relieved to think him dead in the acid pools on Telos IV – it had ended a chase that had been going on indirectly for years. To find out it had been faked made Obi-Wan's blood boil. Was Xanatos really that arrogant? And what had he been doing for the past ten years – or was he really so obsessive as to dedicate ten years to formulating a plan, a trap for the Jedi he hated? With Xanatos, it was possible. He presumably still had the money from the _OffWorld_ mining corporation he once had, even though _OffWorld_ itself had vanished from the commercial and mining world.

How long had he been planning this day? Was it all going to his plan?

Obi-Wan rested his head on a hand, the movement causing pain. The only way to find out would be to ask Xanatos directly – _not_ a good idea.

Still, what else was there to do? He was a captive, hurt and alone. He could only sit and wait for his fate to be revealed – be it death, servitude, escape or something else. He could feel the hint of depression still lurking at the back of his mind, feeding on the darkness of his thoughts. To rid himself of it, and to master the pain in his body, Obi-Wan stood, ignoring the burning pain.

Even though he had no lightsaber to practice with, he began to work through the sabre training exercises he had learnt by heart at the Jedi Temple, moving slowly through each manoeuvre, ignoring the burning sensations still lingering on his muscles. The mundane and repetitive exercises helped to distance himself from his present situation and clear his mind, not letting it dwell in either light or darkness.

With each movement, his recently tortured muscles lost some of the pain, becoming more limber and relaxed with the exercise. Neutral stance, defensive, attacking. His mind became quiet, the hectic thoughts vanishing into the careful count of each set of movements. _One, two three, four…_

He had no idea how long he kept going, repeating them over and over again, lost in the training. Each drill was simple, effective and that was all. There was no hidden motive, no surprises, no kidnappings, no hostile droids, no capture. No torture. Every time Obi-Wan felt his mind beginning to wander from the set movements, begin to dwell on Xanatos, on Qui-Gon, on the thoughts that he would never get out, never be found, was all alone, had been left…he reprimanded himself and focused again on the movements, getting faster and faster.

By the time he finally sat, bathed in sweat, muscles burning not from Xanatos' lightning, but the exertion of the exercises, his mind was blank. Not 'clear' in the Light Side sense of at peace and open to the Force, but blissfully blank from anything at all. He closed his eyes in exhaustion, letting sleep claim him. It was dreamless but shallow, and he woke soon after, the darkness – both in his mind and body – around him once more.

Qui-Gon's stone came back out, and the Jedi apprentice threw it lightly from hand to hand, watching it spin. It made him feel better, sure, but it was also his, well, rock. He almost laughed at the absurdity of the thought, but it was true: it made him feel better, more at peace, stronger. It kept the darkness and depression at bay, kept him anchored. It was his 'rock' in both the metaphysical and literal sense of the word.

Obi-Wan felt its warmth as he pressed it between his palms, staring into the darkness of his prison walls. Getting up, he moved to the Force-reactive wall, drawing the Light Side around him with the help of the stone. He placed a hand on it and willed the white energy into the stone, willed it to change to clear, become open. Nothing happened to the wall itself, but Obi-Wan felt strands of Dark Side energy begin to filter into him through the stone itself. He lifted his hand quickly from the innocent-looking surface, feeling the temptation and energy of the darkness fade as he did so.

Curious, Obi-Wan placed his hand on the wall adjoining it, feeling out with the Force. This one was simply stone. There was no trace of the Dark Side in it at all, yet no Light Side either. The other two walls produced the same conclusion – only one was Force-sensitive, unsurprisingly, and sensitive to the Dark Side at that. Obi-Wan had expected it (as it was what Xanatos had said) but hadn't expected to _feel_ the Dark Side flowing into him from it. Even Qui-Gon couldn't get through it.

Obi-Wan let the Force probe the other three walls, then the ceiling and the floor, looking for weaknesses and flaws that could help him in some way. In any way. There was nothing he could find, though – the walls were perfectly smooth, and the strength of the rock was constant. The vent in the corner was too high for him to reach, and it was hardly bigger than his hand anyway. This prison was a sealed box.

Defeated, Obi-Wan put his stone away and stretched out on the floor, his hands behind his head. Staring at the dark ceiling, his mind began to wander. Too tired to care about his thoughts, Obi-Wan let any and all thoughts come to him, paying them hardly any attention.

What was happening at the Temple? What time was it on Coruscant – what time was it here, wherever here was? Was he in the Outer Rim, the Inner Rim – or close to Coruscant and the Core Worlds? Was he on Coruscant? Was that idea possible…but then again, this box, this prison, could be anywhere. The brief glimpse he had seen of the corridor outside was of the same dark, smooth stone. It could be anywhere at all.

He wondered what Qui-Gon was doing and where he was. If he knew his Master, which, after ten or so years he _hoped_ he did, Qui-Gon would have completed their original mission on Jernosi – he fleetingly wondered who had won the election – before coming to search for his missing apprentice. _If he decided to. If he could be bothered searching for a Senior Padawan who should've known how to take care of himself…_

Starting into awareness, Obi-Wan pushed the thought from his mind. Qui-Gon would come for him; they had been through so much for him not to.

If he stopped thinking like that, he was lost.

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My poor Obi...I feel so mean. And it's gonna get worse before it gets better. Reviews make the Dark Side fade!


	7. Meditation and Travel

And we're back to our beloved Jedi Master...apologies for any typso..._typos_...missed in editing, they keep slipping through!

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Qui-Gon opened his eyes, sitting up in the small cabin. What had woken him? There was something at the back of his mind – a feeling, a dim memory, that had reached his sleep-induced mind and caused him to wake. It had been of…pain. Pain? Where had that come from? He was in no danger, no pain himself…Obi-Wan. But their Force-link was still blocked…was it possible his apprentice was hurting so much that a whisper of his pain had reached him, even through the block?

As his mind produced the thought, his heart knew it was right. Obi-Wan was in pain – or had _been_ in pain – he had to find his apprentice before anything worse happened. The thought of Obi-Wan in pain meant that there was something going on that was out of the control of his apprentice, and that was cause for worry. Obi-Wan (even though the young man refused to believe it) was exceptionally skilled. Qui-Gon could sense that his apprentice would soon become a Knight – and the Master was running out of things to teach the student. A few more years, perhaps.

But that was the future. In the here and now, Obi-Wan was in pain, kidnapped somewhere on an unknown planet and in trouble. It was Qui-Gon's responsibility – not to mention his overwhelming desire – to find him, or at least what happened to him, should it come to that. Qui-Gon was determined it wouldn't, but he acknowledged the possibility. If Obi-Wan died…

Qui-Gon swung his legs off the bunk and stood quietly, so as not to wake Bant who was sleeping in the next room. Kit was in the cabin at the present moment, on watch as the ship flew through hyperspace. He had never needed much sleep.

Kit looked up from the view of hyperspace and Qui-Gon quietly entered and sat down next to him in the co-pilot's chair. "Having trouble sleeping, Qui-Gon?" he asked quietly after a moment of silence.

The human Jedi Master paused before speaking. "I think I felt pain, Kit. Obi-Wan's pain. I told you our link was blocked?"

"You did." Kit turned to Qui-Gon, his black eyes glittering in the low light.

Qui-Gon watched the hyperspace sky streak past, half-lost in thought. "It was only a hint, a whisper of hurt – but I think it might have been so strong that that hint filtered through the blocked bond. That means it was bad."

"And it woke you?"

"I think so. The Force has been – and still is – constantly telling me that it is vital to find Obi-Wan as soon as we can. Time is running out – but I don't know why or what it will mean. It's like having a constant bad feeling, or…" He trailed off.

Kit nodded sombrely. "Like feeling slightly ill, when you know something isn't right. I know what you mean."

The two Jedi Masters fell into silence. Kit leaned over the control panel, checking on something as Qui-Gon looked past the view outside and let his mind wander. "Kit…what if he dies?"

Kit paused for a moment. "Then we mourn and move on." He bit his lip. "The Jedi view. He won't die, Qui-Gon. We will find him."

"But what if?"

Kit turned to look at the distant Qui-Gon. He didn't think he had ever seen the usually stoic Jedi Master so at a loss, so _unguarded_. He knew if this was the same situation with Bant missing, he would probably be the same way. Jedi were not supposed to let their emotions rule them, but in a situation like this, that part of the Code took a backseat – or went out the window altogether, even if it was internal. If the Master didn't worry, then what sort of being were they? Master and Padawans became close – Kit could only imagine what sort of thoughts were plaguing Qui-Gon.

This worrying, restless person was a side of Qui-Gon most did not see. He was a different person at the Jedi Temple; cool, calm, collected. Obi-Wan was slightly different too, a respectful and obedient Padawan. The both of them were liked by most, and those who went on missions or knew them personally knew of the strange humour streak and warmth that ran through them both. They were different outside the expectations of the Temple, but then, thought Kit with a slight smile, who wasn't?

"Qui-Gon, it's only one of many possible futures."

"You sound like Yoda."

Kit looked at the composed Jedi Master, but Qui-Gon's eyes twinkled in a mischievous way. Underneath the composure, the coolness and everything else – he was just a child. A wise child, but a child nonetheless. Kit fleetingly wondered how Obi-Wan put up with it. Kit laughed aloud.

Qui-Gon smiled in return, as the Nautolan rested a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Qui-Gon; it doesn't become you. We'll find Obi-Wan. I'm sure he is fine. Have you meditated on the link?"

"I have, whenever I can. I might try again now, actually." As Kit gave an accommodating nod, Qui-Gon stood and made his way back to his small cabin. There was another bed in here, one that should belong to Obi-Wan…dispersing the thought, Qui-Gon sat, cross-legged with his back against the wall, on his bed.

He felt the Force around him, drew on it easily, and slipped into a meditative stance. The promptings of the Force, to find Obi-Wan and do it now, came back to him strongly before fading to the background where they were usually. He concentrated on his Force-link with Obi-Wan and the blocking that had been impressed up on it. Qui-Gon could feel the blockage and tried to remove it, but had no luck.

Next, he tried to reach deeper into the Force, to bypass it at a deeper level and contact Obi-Wan. He didn't think he was getting anywhere, but gradually and faintly, something was coming through. A feeling. A low, dull burning. It wasn't a physical burning, but deeper than that, in the mind and soul. There was an image with it, a dark, very indistinct figure, wearing a hooded cloak. The darkness was through it all and came across the strongest.

He sat for longer, but all he could get was a whisper of Obi-Wan's pain and the darkness that was present. Qui-Gon drew himself back to the waking world, opening his eyes and staring at the wall. The darkness in his Padawan's mind was a major cause for worry. What was happening to him?

When he came back out to the main cabin, he found Bant was awake and sitting in the pilot's chair, while on the floor next to her, Kit was in the traditional pose of meditation, his body relaxed and his black eyes closed. Bant looked up when Qui-Gon entered, and Kit moved slightly, saying, as he opened his eyes, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Qui-Gon leaned against the wall of the cockpit. "I found something. It is better than nothing, I know, but still…"

"What did you find?" Bant asked him quietly.

Looking over at her, Qui-Gon could clearly see the concern she held for her missing friend. It was the same way Obi-Wan had looked, all those years ago, when Xanatos had infiltrated the Jedi Temple and taken Bant…

"Our Force-link is blocked, this you know. I have been mediating on it for the past while-"

"While?" Kit interrupted from his position on the floor. "It's been about five or six standard hours since I last saw you, Qui-Gon."

Surprised at the way time had slipped past him in the trance, Qui-Gon continued. "I focused on our obscured link with the Force. I tired to remove it, but couldn't. So instead I decided to try to find a way through at a deeper level of focus. I did not think I was getting any further, but I did feel something…"

He trailed off, the memory of the darkness at the front of his mind, the worry returning with it. Both Kit and Bant could see he was worried – and possibly fearful – of what he had managed to get from the obscured bond. Neither prompted him to continue, and for that he was thankful. He took a moment before continuing softly.

"There was pain, and darkness. Something terrible is happening to him."

There was a moment of silence, as Qui-Gon finished speaking. Bant rested her head in a hand, staring into the hyperspace sky blankly, and Kit sighed in something akin to defeat. Who knew what torture or terrible things Obi-Wan was going through?

"I know it's just formality, but we should tell the Council about travelling to Kelada." Kit looked up at Qui-Gon, who met his gaze before the Nautolan continued. "We'll have to pull out of hyperspace to do so, but it shouldn't take long. Should I contact them, or would you like to?"

"I would," Qui-Gon immediately answered. "But we should contact Yoda directly, I think."

Kit nodded in agreement. "Bant, take us out of hyperspace. I'll set up the channel."

Five minutes later, Qui-Gon was standing before a small hologram of the Jedi Grand Master. Yoda was leaning heavily on his gimmer stick, his eyes heavy and sad as he looked up at Qui-Gon. "News of your apprentice, Master Qui-Gon?"

"A lead, Master. Not much to go on, but it may provide the right answers."

Yoda's ears twitched. "Of what lead do you speak?"

"The droids that were recovered from the scene of the attack had a marking on them – well hidden, but still there and, more importantly, clear. It was the making of Arakyd Industries, Master. Master Fisto, Bant and I are on the way to Kelada, where they have their factories." Qui-Gon watched Yoda nod slowly.

"A reputation, Arakyd has. Approve of this journey, I do. If find the maker you do, then find the information you will to lead you to Obi-Wan." Yoda's hologram shifted slightly, the wizened eyes looking at Qui-Gon intensely. "What troubles you?"

Qui-Gon looked down, away from the searching gaze. "I meditated on out blocked link, Master Yoda."

"And break it, you could not?"

"No, Master…."

"Hmm." The Jedi Master closed his eyes in thought. "So deeper, you went. What did you see, Master Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon, for the second time in only ten or so minutes, felt the memory of the darkness return. "I felt a faint burning pain, Master Yoda. As if he was being tortured from within…it was faded, a whisper of what he was going through, but still hurt. There was also a weak image with it – a dark figure, humanoid I think, but it was to hazy to even make out that much for sure. But through it all, I felt darkness. There is darkness around him, strong darkness."

Yoda nodded slowly, then sighed. "Unsure what this means, I am. But a chilling thought, it is."

"Yes, Master."

Yoda looked back up at Qui-Gon. "Find him, you will – but careful, you must be. May the Force be with you."

Qui-Gon returned the familiar phrase as the hologram faded. He had gained a little confidence from Yoda, but even the Grand Jedi Master of the Order hadn't helped him enough with what he had felt within the meditative trance. They were a little over half way to Kelada, so there was more time if he wanted to try again. He knew he would, but he would have to be careful.

Returning to the command cabin, Kit saw the communication was finished and eased their ship back into hyperspace. Qui-Gon watched the dots of the stars become lines and went back to his cabin, determined to try again right now and gain a better result – a clearer picture, a message, anything.

The meditation on the link was as hard as it had been before, but Qui-Gon skipped the idea of trying to remove it again, knowing already it wouldn't work – and probably never would. That was coming from an external source, he was sure – probably the captor themselves – and there was nothing he could do. Instead, he went deeper into the trance to find the level of focus he had been at before.

The feeling of pain was the first things that came back to him, as faint as it had been before. He pushed it aside, finding the same deadly sense of darkness and the blurred image of the figure that quickly replaced it. With trouble, he pushed them aside too, focusing on the incredibly faint feeling of his Padawan's mind.

He could still feel the darkness, and for a moment his worry clouded his own mind. He had to control it to focus properly. There was something there, some faint light in the darkness of Obi-Wan's mind, keeping the pressing darkness around him at bay, keeping him struggling against it, surviving. Qui-Gon desperately tried to get a message through to him, but the darkness was clouding the thin link he had…he could feel its cold grip beginning on his own mind…

He drew himself back to the warmth of the Light Side of the Force, the darkness receding. Shaking it off physically, Qui-Gon rose and walked back out to Kit and Bant.

"Somewhere around ten hours for that meditative expedition, Qui-Gon," Kit said, not taking his eyes from his datapad screen he held as he handed Qui-Gon some food. "Hungry?"

Qui-Gon hadn't noticed how hungry he was until Kit brought it up. He took the offered food gratefully as Band turned her large silver eyes to him. "Did you reach Obi-Wan?"

"No. There was just more of the same faint feelings – the pain, the darkness. He's surviving, but barely. The darkness is so strong around him…it drove me back."

Kit turned to the navcomputer as it began to beep softly. "Don't worry, Qui-Gon," he said as he pulled the ship out of hyperdrive and a dark, rusty coloured planet appeared before them through the window. "We'll get those answers – we're here."

* * *

Ah, Kelada at long last. And for those who are interested, Kelada and Arakyd Industries _do_ exist in the Star Wars universe, they're not my creations. Jernosi was my creation, because it was only in the first part of the story.


	8. Kicks and Stones

A little shorter, I think, than pervious chapters...

* * *

Waking was hardly different to the darkness of sleep. On first opening his eyes, Obi-Wan realized how terrible he felt – both physically and emotionally. Lack of nutrition was making him weak and exhausted, and the solitude and darkness was beginning to get to him. He was keeping it at bay, using the stone and what he had been taught at the Temple, but he could feel himself slipping, and could recognize it was only a matter of time until he lost himself within the darkness…

He sat up, casting a wary eye around his cell. Nothing had changed, unsurprisingly, but he was slightly surprised his waking had not been like the day before – by excruciating pain. Having no idea how long he had slept for did not help. Obi-Wan stood, going through some stretches to work the cramped feeling from his muscles. Sleeping on a stone floor wasn't exactly _comfortable_.

Approaching footsteps broke into his thoughts. Guess who was coming to see him.

Sure enough, the wall soon turned clear and Xanatos stood before him, the familiar twisted smile on his face. "Oh, you're awake. A shame, I was looking forward to…_waking_…you." To illustrate his point, a flicker of blue arced between his two hands. Obi-Wan instinctively cringed at the sight; the memory of the burning pain returning.

Xanatos laughed. "It's unfair in a fight though, isn't it? I have so much power at my command… you have none at all. Can you even contact the Force?" He laughed again, guessing the answer. "The Light Side doesn't exist here. This is the home of darkness."

Xanatos stepped forward, into the cell itself. Obi-Wan stood where he was, unmoving as his captor came closer, bracing himself for the pain of the Force-lightning he would soon feel. He was prepared for it – slightly – but wasn't prepared for the fist that hit his jaw and made him stumble back. Regaining his footing quickly, he turned to Xanatos.

"I thought it would be more fun it was even." He spread his arms wide, in a mocking invitation. "Take a shot. I won't use any Force lightning."

Obi-Wan didn't move. Xanatos sighed dramatically and dropped his arms. "Fine."

He ran at Obi-Wan, who braced himself and moved just in time, causing Xanatos to almost run into the wall. Obi-Wan took the opportunity to swing his elbow at the back of Xanatos' head (he may as well defend himself), but Xanatos knew it was coming and grabbed his arm, swinging Obi-Wan forcefully into the wall. Obi-Wan tasted blood in his mouth as he stumbled back.

Xanatos' foot came out of nowhere and smacked him in the right side. The powerful blow sent Obi-Wan to the floor, his ribs on fire. Another kick was dealt to his abdomen, and Obi-Wan managed to grab Xanatos' ankle the next time he tried, shoving back with all the strength he could muster, pushing Xanatos off-balance and to the floor as Obi-Wan stood.

Obi-Wan took the chance to deliver a payback kick to him as he was on the ground, and Xanatos grunted in pain. He kicked up from the floor in return, and Obi-Wan felt his ribs bruise.

Xanatos sprang back up, apparently unhurt. He came at his captive again, kicking and punching, which Obi-Wan blocked with what strength he had. At the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan – and so Xanatos, too – had been taught basic hand-to-hand combat, and martial arts in particular. It was these attacks Xanatos was using now; so Obi-Wan used the relative blocks. But Xanatos was physically stronger, seemingly unaffected by the fight.

Some of Xanatos' blows got through, and soon Obi-Wan found himself back on the ground, on his hands and knees, clutching his side with one hand, his head spinning and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Xanatos was leaning against a wall, watching his captive's suffering.

"Come now, you've got to have more strength than that."

The taunts missed their mark – Obi-Wan was determined to not let Xanatos provoke him into attacking. He kept silent, trying to overcome the pain. His silence seemed to anger Xanatos more, and so he came back over, kicking out Obi-Wan's arm from underneath him. Obi-Wan only just caught himself before his head hit the ground. He looked up at the horrific figure who stood over him, and was rewarded with a kick in the head.

Xanatos knew how to fight – the kick wasn't hard enough to knock Obi-Wan out, but it caused him to roll over onto his back as his vision swam and his head rang again with pain. Xanatos raised a hand and lifted him using the Force, holding him a few inches above solid ground.

"You know what? You don't look so good."

He twitched his hand slightly, and Obi-Wan was slammed against the wall and fell heavily to the ground. He lay, his body screaming in pain. It was almost impossible to move, but he had to keep strong, had to keep fighting. He could hear Xanatos snickering, and it hardened his resolve. He stood, carefully, ignoring the intense pain and the blood flowing from numerous cuts.

Xanatos raised an eyebrow. "Oh, a fighter. What a good little Jedi." He walked forward to his captive. Obi-Wan struggled to stand tall, and supposedly painless in the face of this nightmare, but he couldn't do it. So he kept silent, feeling the blood slip down the side of his face from the gash in his head.

Xanatos, quick as lightning, punched him once in the chest. The force of the blow made Obi-Wan stumble, but Xanatos was looking at his hand in confusion and wonder. His eyes narrowed and he beat Obi-Wan to the ground again. Lying in a daze, Obi-Wan was powerless as Xanatos reached a hand into the hidden pocket of his Jedi tunic – and drew out Qui-Gon's Force-sensitive stone.

"What's this?" Xanatos turned it over in his hands. "A stone? And…" he paused, cupping the stone in his hands. "A Light Side Force-sensitive one, at that. How _horrible_."

Obi-Wan tried to reach out to get it back – Qui-Gon had given it to him, it was special – it was his, Xanatos had no right to take it from him. Seeing him move, weakly lift an arm, Xanatos moved smoothly out of the way, the stone still in his hands.

"It's from Qui-Gon." Xanatos' voice was dangerously low and malicious. "A gift from your _beloved_ Master, yes? How touching."

He swiftly dealt another kick to Obi-Wan, who cried out and instinctively curled up. "I think I'll take this, Obi-Wan. You don't need it, after all."

"No…" Obi-Wan whispered weakly, watching Xanatos. Across the cell, Xanatos turned back to where Obi-Wan was still lying at the base of the wall, hurt and bloodied. He dropped the stone, and Obi-Wan flinched as it clattered to the floor.

"Oh, _whoops._" With that, Xanatos kicked it out of the cell, smiling as it rattled into the shadows of the corridor. Obi-Wan watched and picked himself up from the floor carefully.

"Give it back," he whispered.

"You're in no position to ask such a thing," came the simple reply.

Obi-Wan started to walk towards Xanatos, anger building inside him. He struggled to control it, but that stone was _special_. It was from Qui-Gon, had helped him through so much. He wanted it back.

Xanatos smiled as he watched Obi-Wan come towards him. "Oh, touched a nerve there, did I?"

This time, using strength from Force knows where, Obi-Wan managed to hit Xanatos a few times before he was brought to his knees with the power of the Dark Side. Xanatos let the lightning hurt him – not enough to make him pass out or kill him, but enough to make him cry out and fall – and wiped the trickle of blood from his mouth. He was hurting too – some of Obi-Wan's strikes had been powerful enough – but he didn't show it.

He crouched down next to the prone and bloody figure of his captive. Obi-Wan flicked his eyes towards Xanatos, who met his gaze steadily, his face emotionless. "Do you want to see a demonstration of the power of the Dark Side?"

He wiped more blood from his face and held it up to Obi-Wan. "Watch this."

He placed his hand on Obi-Wan's chest. Almost immediately, Obi-Wan watched the cut on Xanatos' face heal and felt his own lip split. _Xanatos was transferring his wounds._ Obi-Wan could feel the injuries he had inflicted on Xanatos himself in his own body. The punches and kicks he had landed were now _his_ pain. Xanatos, on the other hand, was smiling – healed.

Taking his hand from Obi-Wan's chest, Xanatos stood silently and left, leaving his captive to his suffering and torment. Obi-Wan was granted one last look at Xanatos' smirking face before the wall became stone again. The sound of his footsteps faded, along with one final taunt. "Pretty stone, Obi-Wan. It will look better in the wilderness!"

Obi-Wan lay, in agonising pain, on the cold cell floor. He was bleeding and bruised heavily, and could hardly move. At least nothing appeared to be broken. He tried to raise himself up, but the pain was too much to bear, so he stayed lying, like a pathetic and caged animal. He tried to reach out to the Force, but the white warmth slipped past him.

He felt the darkness of unconsciousness coming upon him, somewhat thankful for its silence and painlessness. He wanted to stay awake and stave off the nightmares that plagued him, though, but didn't know if he had the strength…

Someone was calling him. Their voice was faint, but there, and Obi-Wan found himself walking through a forest looking for them. The forest kept changing – it was full of tall trees, then massive flowers, then the trees weren't wood but stone, then they were metal spikes… he turned to look the way he had come but there was only water behind him. Turning back he found the Temple before him. Joyous, he ran up the stairs and into the familiar entrance hall.

Someone came up to him – his vision shifted and he found himself looking at Siri Tachii, a very close friend of his. He was so pleased to see her but couldn't think why – she told his the Council wanted him, and suddenly he was outside the Council Chamber door. He went it – the seats were empty apart from two, where Xanatos and Bruck Chun held position. He cried out, tried to run, but he couldn't move…the scene faded and Qui-Gon was next to him. Obi-Wan tried to tell his Master what had happened, but Qui-Gon didn't want to hear it, just told him to not be so stupid next time and how he had almost decided to leave him to his fate – why should he care? Then Qui-Gon laughed and became Xanatos…who showed him the tortured dead bodies of those he knew and cared for…Qui-Gon…Siri…Bant…Quinlan…Yoda… Someone was screaming aloud, the sound was tearing him apart…

He woke, still on the cell floor, as the cry died on his lips. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and blatantly ignored the pain in his body. He felt vulnerable and exposed on the floor here, and so gingerly moved himself back into a corner, where he had two walls at his back. The nightmare lingered with him.

Sitting alone in a dark, cold cell, hurting inside and out, something broke within him.

Obi-Wan put his head in his hands and cried. He hadn't cried for years – he was a Jedi, and Jedi didn't let their emotions get the better of them, after all. But now, something inside him shattered. He wept bitterly for the injustice of it all, the horror of what he had been though, what the nightmare had shown him, the pain he felt, the darkness of this place, Xanatos' cruelty, for Bant, for the Jedi and the Republic…

He wept for Qui-Gon. All that Qui-Gon didn't know about this trap and situation, all that Obi-Wan put him through, both now and then. Obi-Wan had tried to hard to be his Padawan, and now he was he had never been able to do anything right, just constantly put Qui-Gon through Hell. He left the Order at thirteen, had been in trouble multiple times, upset dignitaries and politicians, messed up missions...and through it all Qui-Gon had been patient with him, the Order's outcast.

Outcast. Unwanted by thirteen, shoved into the AgriCrops. It was a deep hurt that had never truly healed.

Everything he had ever done wrong came back to him in a flash. All his failures, the mistakes he had made, the things that had gone wrong on missions that were his fault. Every dark moment from his life seemed to visit him once again in this moment, building upon him, tormenting and plaguing him.

He wept under the weight of it all, and finally let exhaustion claim him.

* * *

Slightly melodramatic, I know. I like angst, what can I say? Reviews make the Light Side strong! 


	9. Arakyd and Reassignment

So, the planet of Kelada, home of Arakyd Industries…my deepest thanks to all those who reviewed. I'll start replying on a usual basis if I can.

* * *

Qui-Gon stepped off the ship, onto the rust-coloured dust that covered the ground. Kelada was rocky and industrial – factories covered what parts of the rocky ground were flat, and twisted metal spires rose over the haze of fumes created by the droid production lines. The single sun of the system was high in the sky, casting sharp shadows across the buildings. It was noisy, too – indecipherable shouts of one worker to another were mixed amongst the clank and grinding of machines and metal. Discarded parts of droids lay scattered near the landing pad they had gained permission to use; broken, bent metal and wiring piled high. 

Behind him, in the starship doorway, Qui-Gon heard Kit move behind him and step off. Kit had asked Bant to stay behind in the ship for them, and she had agreed, though Qui-Gon had seen a flicker of disappointment in her silver eyes. Kit had seen it too, placing a hand lightly on his Padawan's shoulder. Qui-Gon had noticed it wasn't an order from a Master to their apprentice, but a simple request between them. It reminded him of his own relationship with Obi-Wan.

Sharing a glance, the two Jedi Masters began to walk towards the largest (and cleanest) of the buildings, which stood before them. It used to be white, but was now covered in a thin layer of dust and permanently stained from the environment. A dirty, but visible sign above the door proclaimed it the headquarters of Arakyd Industries, and the symbol found on the droids was above it.

The wind was rough and bitter, even though the sun was warm. Bowing his hooded head against it, Qui-Gon put his hands in his sleeves and kept walking, Kit in perfect stride beside him. What would they find here? Was it a dead end – could the droid markings have been a ruse? The thought occurred to Qui-Gon with worrying obviousness. It was something he hadn't considered.

The doors slid open silently, granting the Jedi access to a reception area. It was almost bare – a desk and a few couches, a half-dead plant occupying the room – and the receptionist behind the desk looked up immediately as the door opened and Qui-Gon and Kit removed their hoods. She was a young Cathar, a cat-like race, who were humanoid but covered in fine fur, with pointed ears and a sharp bone structure. She smiled, showing them pointed teeth.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Her eyes swept down them and took in their recognisable garments. "Jedi Masters, I should say."

"I'm Qui-Gon Jinn, this is my companion Kit Fisto. We want to talk with whomever is in charge of custom droid design." Qui-Gon replied, watching as the receptionist looked down and consulted something, a datapad, next to her.

"Our head designer is Druss Macavity. One moment." She activated a personal commlink next to her, and within a few seconds a figure – Druss Macavity, presumably – had answered her. "Some visitors to see you, sir."

"Send them in, Diantha." The hologram vanished.

Diantha pressed a button on the desk and a turbolift arrived quickly in its alcove by the desk. "Second floor, Master Jinn, Master Fisto. Macavity's name is on the door."

Thanking her, Qui-Gon and Kit boarded the turbolift, following her instructions. They reached the second floor and found Macavity's office with ease. Sharing a glace, Kit knocked softly on the door. There was moment of silence, before a voice called out and they were admitted entry.

Druss Macavity was a young human man, his long, dark blonde hair tied up and his green eyes bright and intelligent. He came out from behind his desk to greet them – he was average height, shorter than both the Jedi, and strangely thin. "Jedi? I'm honoured – Druss Macavity. What brings you to our humble planet?"

"We're Masters Fisto and Jinn," Kit said, indicating himself and Qui-Gon. "We want to talk to you about some of your droids…"

"Have you ever seen these droids before?" Qui-Gon showed the designer a miniature hologram of one of the droids that had attacked him and Obi-Wan. He had made it before leaving Jernosi, and the small picture showed a detailed three-dimensional image, clear and easy to see. Macavity's eyes lit up as he looked at it.

"Those! My Axa-13s. They were works of art, they really were…what do you want to know?" he asked suddenly, his eyes flicking from the hologram to the serious-faced Qui-Gon.

"We want to know who they were commissioned by, what they were for, and where they were delivered to." Qui-Gon's disappointment rose as Macavity began to shake his head before he had even finished speaking.

"That's confidential information, I'm sorry, Master Jinn. I can't give it out." He looked stricken. "I'd like to help, but the information is kept private. You must understand, we make droids for everyone – anyone – and many are on the less than respectable side of society."

Kit stepped into Qui-Gon's silence smoothly. "Can you tell us nothing? We will not force you. But any information you have you _must_ give us."

Something in Kit's voice made Macavity pale slightly. "Why…what's happened? What did they do? Did they malfunction? I told Jess those droids needed top-grade parts, but he kept talking about money-"

"They didn't malfunction," Kit interrupted him.

"I was attacked by them," Qui-Gon said quietly, causing Macavity to stare openly at him. "On Jernosi. My apprentice too – he is now _missing_, and the droids are the only lead I have."

Macavity could see the hurt in his eyes. He sighed, knowing he was beaten. This was beyond the sort of rogues who came I wanting contact information about buyers simply for revenge. "So it's Jedi business, right? What do you want to know?"

Qui-Gon smiled slightly at him, grateful. "Who asked for them?"

Macavity shrugged. "Never saw his face, always wore a hood. It's not uncommon with some of our clients. From his gait, I'd say he was athletic, mid thirties maybe. He was human, of that I'm pretty sure."

Qui-Gon was silent for a moment, in thought. "What about when the order first came in? Was there anything, any description or indication for what the droids would be used for?"

At this, Macavity brightened. "Purpose? Yeah, of course. Said they were for bodyguard work. Oh, and a little patrolling, I think it was."

"What about the delivery? Were they picked up from here or sent off planet?"

"Off planet. Don't know where, but it'll probably be in the records." Macavity brought up some files, the display a holographic panel above his desk. His fingers flew over the keyboard, and soon he grinned in triumph. "Here it is."

He had brought up the records for the original droid order. Qui-Gon and Kit moved around the desk so they could read them – who it was for, droid purposes, price, time, dates, delivery specifics…"Dromund Kaas," read Kit quietly. He looked over at Qui-Gon, who was staring at the screen blankly. Kit knew the connotations of the name. The planet of Dromund Kaas was known to both of them from early history lessons at the Temple – it was renowned as a planet of great darkness, reportedly with an old Sith academy built on it.

"Huh," Macavity muttered, scanning the report. "That's right. He asked for no insignia on the droids – probably to keep them from being traced…not like it helped. The boys down in assembly can't help but sign their work. Was it hidden?"

"It was," Qui-Gon replied. "Hidden on the primary core casing, very small and light."

Macavity gave them a copy of the report. Qui-Gon took it with a quiet world of thanks, tucking the datasheet away in his tunic. Information recovered, they got up to leave. Macavity saw them down to the front door, saying quietly as he did so, "I see it as such a waste. Those droids were art, the engineers worked something amazing on them. To have them used for such purposes…I mean, as I said many of out clients are under the radar; they usually want firepower and that's about it…" he trailed off.

"Good luck to you both." He murmured quietly as the two Jedi put their hoods up and stepped into the wind. The door closed and he was lost from view.

Walking back towards the landing pad, Qui-Gon was silent. Kit could sense something was worrying Qui-Gon, but couldn't place it. If Obi-Wan was on Dromund Kaas, then that was a worry, but for some reason, Kit thought it was something different.

Something on that report had chilled Qui-Gon to the bone. Surely it was just a coincidence, and meant nothing in the long run…Qui-Gon was thankfully drawn from his thoughts as Kit faltered slightly in his pace. "Bant's got an incoming message from Coruscant." He began to jog smoothly back to the ship, Qui-Gon following behind him at a slower pace, consumed in thought.

Bant was talking to the holographic version of the Jedi Council. She bowed respectfully to both Kit and Qui-Gon when they entered, and both the Masters greeted the Council. They enquired as to how the search for Obi-Wan was progressing, and Kit and Qui-Gon filled them – and Bant – in on the information that had been gathered thanks to Arakyd Industries and Macavity.

"Go to Droumind Kaas you will?" Yoda asked, his ears twitching.

"Yes, Master. If we do not find Obi-Wan there, at least we have another lead."

Mace Windu pressed his fingers together. "Dromund Kaas. Known Dark Side history, in the regions of old Sith Space. That, and the fact that you have sensed darkness in Obi-Wan's mind, makes it a definite possibility. But tread carefully – there is much darkness there."

"Yes, Master. Of course."

Yoda turned, shifting slightly so he was facing Kit. "Master Fisto. An urgent request we have had for you and your apprentice. Need you to report to Aquaris, we do."

Resigned, and biting back a curse, Kit bowed. "Yes, Masters." Beside him, Bant held her tongue, even though her Master felt her disappointed change in mood. She wanted to find her friend – who could blame her?

"Qui-Gon – Master Tholme and Quinlan Vos are nearby, on Zeltros. They will meet with you on Kelada and aid you in your search for Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon bowed to Mace in reply. At least he was getting help. Granted, Tholme wasn't the person he would have chosen had he the choice, but he and Quinlan would be helpful, and Quinlan was a old friend of Obi-Wan's…Qui-Gon, on the other hand, hadn't seen Tholme some time.

Kit and Bant were given details about their mission, before the Council's communication ended, and the three Jedi shared a look. "I don't want to go," Bant said quietly. Before her Master could reply, she added, "I know I have no choice and it is our duty, and I will follow you, Master. But I wish there was more I could do for Obi-Wan…"

She looked down at the floor as Kit squeezed her shoulder. "Your loyalty is admirable."

"I'll find him, Bant." Qui-Gon said softly. It sounded, to Qui-Gon, almost like a promise to himself as well as Bant.

She smiled weakly. "I know you will."

The console beeped. Another incoming message. Kit activated the channel.

"Master Jinn, it had been too long."

Qui-Gon couldn't help smiling. "Indeed it has, Master Tholme."

The scarred Jedi Master grinned back, slightly. "We're about an hour from Kelada, Quinlan and I."

"Lock on to our signal, come down to the same landing platform."

With a nod, Tholme vanished. Kit and Bant left the cockpit to gather their belongings – they were to take the ship Tholme and Quinlan were coming in on. Qui-Gon was left alone, and he brought out the report from Arakyd.

As soon as he had seen it, it had chilled him to the bone. The name of the client who commissioned, helped design and bought the droids.

_Crion._

Crion. It had been the name of Qui-Gon's former Padawan's father, a figure from the past who had fallen into greed and lust for power; corruption. Qui-Gon had killed him, and Crion's son, Qui-Gon's Padawan, Xanatos, had fallen to the Dark Side. He had already been travelling down the dark path, but his father's death drove him over the edge.

Could it be pure coincidence? Or was this something from the past, back to haunt him? Xanatos? No, Xanatos had _died_, leapt into an acidic pool on Telos IV. He was dead.

He was dead.

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So, we get to meet Quinlan and Tholme next chapter. I love those two – legends, the both of them. Anyways, hope this chapter was interesting – we are getting into the good stuff now…

Reviews make me happy!


	10. Nightmares and Depression

Okay, this chapter is VERY angsty. Sorry, it just came out that way. It like it, at least. Apologies those those it irritates.

Disclaimer: Are Sith alturistic?

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He could only see what was before him.

There was no way for him to turn aside; he couldn't tear his eyes away; something held him. He could only watch, as everything burned – harsh, golden fire licked across the ground, covering and destroying everything in its path and dark plumes of smoke obscured the distant view. Only here, where he stood, was there any visibility – but he didn't want to see, didn't want to be seen.

The bodies were thick on the ground. Blood was everywhere, a sickly, bright red against the grey rock that was terrain in this place. The bodies couldn't be counted – there were too many – but, inexplicably, Obi-Wan could tell that those he knew and cared about were down there, among the dead. Sure enough, as soon as the thought came to mind, the battlefield refocused into astounding clarity and Obi-Wan began to move down to it, with no control over where he walked.

He saw Siri first. She was sprawled at an unusual angle across the wreckage of her Jedi starfighter, her red blood shining against the pale paintwork of the craft, and her broken lightsaber hilt still clutched in dead fingers. Her head was thrown back, and Obi-Wan could see her lifeless eyes staring up at him. He couldn't help thinking that she was still beautiful, even in death. Memories of promises came back to him, memories of her…that mission, four years ago, when they had agreed to never mention their feelings again, but now she was _dead_…

Near her was Adi Gallia, her Master, laying where she had fallen trying to get to her Padawan. The Jedi Master was face down, one arm outstretched to Siri's body. Deep blaster bolt wounds marked her back and head.

Obi-Wan looked away from them and found himself staring instead at the remains of…it took him a moment to recognise it, as the body was horrifically burned. It was Garen Muln, one of Obi-Wan's oldest friends from the Temple…they had grown up together…sparred together, shared hopes and dreams…and now he was dead, burned beyond recognition.

Another horrifically burned corpse was beside that of Garen's. Without having to go near it, Obi-Wan knew it would be Clee Rhara, Garen's Master. She was – she had been – one of the Order's greatest starfighter pilots. Blood had soaked through the parts of her robes that weren't burnt, turning them dark, yet her pale hand that was stretched beside her in the rock was untouched by it.

Trying to close his eyes from the sight that made him feel sick, the edge of his boot hit something soft – a body – and he couldn't help looking down. It wasn't a body; but a head-tentacle of Kit Fisto's. The Nautolan was lying on his back, a bloody hole in his chest – still faintly smoking. His black eyes were clouded in death, but his mouth still held the faintest tell of the smiled he had been known for.

Knowing that Kit would mean Bant was nearby, Obi-Was anxiously cast a glance around – and found her. She was near him, curled up as if sleeping on the ground. From where he was, Obi-Wan could see the pool of blood beneath her body, and couldn't bring himself to move closer to her. Memories of early years at the Temple – swimming races she _always_ won – flooded back, bringing a deep pain and Obi-Wan tore his eyes from her body and kept walking.

Even though his logical mind told him she had died long ago, before all this, the sight of Tahl's corpse was still shocking. She lay across a peice of metal, the jagged edges cutting into her robes and her deactivated sabre on the ground where it had fallen from her grip. She was peppered with blaster wounds, her honey coloured skin now discoloured from her red blood. The eyes that had been blinded long ago were even more dead now. Even blind, the light in her eyes had never waved – nor had her independence or stubbornness.

Obi-Wan felt numb walking through the battlefield. He didn't know where he was, but knew this was his fault.

Reeft, when he was young, had always eaten everything in sight. He had always been fun to be around, always knew how to make people smile. Now he would never smile again; his head cleaved from his shoulders and lying next to his body. The body of his Master, Binn Ibes, lay a little way off, a bundle of blood-soaked robes.

There was a small body near a pile of twisted metal. Obi-Wan knew who it was – only one person was that small, but he couldn't bring himself to look on the body of Yoda. Instead, he stood above it, staring numbly down. Yoda's body was obscured by his robes, the tip of one ear poking out above the material. The thought of Yoda's death was almost a physical blow – the GrandMaster of the Jedi Order, defeated, _dead_…

Still walking, not knowing where he was going, he came upon the body of Quinlan Vos. Quinlan's black, dirty dreadlocks were scattered on the ground, in much the same way Kit's head-tentacles had been. Obi-Wan had a brief flash of memory – training together on Ragoon VI, where Quinlan had done a one-handed hand-stand on a precariously balanced pile of rocks, messing around, showing off…Obi-Wan had watched him as the pile swayed, laughing…but Quinlan hadn't been as good as he thought he was, and had fallen into the river, almost _drowned_…Obi-Wan had jumped in instinctively after his friend to save him…now Quinlan was lying on his back, a broken sabre nearby, blood on his face and a metal spike deep in his chest. He looked so much older than he was.

Tholme was by him. Quinlan's Master was lying like a rag doll, one leg obviously broken…not like it mattered…a wide slash across his abdomen. His eyes were open slightly; they seemed to be glaring up at Obi-Wan, and blood tricked from the corner of his mouth. Suppressing a shiver, Obi-Wan turned away, back to his path, wherever it was taking him, deeper to the battlefield.

Walking without hesitation, even though he wanted to flee from this place and never look back, Obi-Wan felt himself stop and opened his closed eyes. At his feet was what – _who_ – he had been unintentionally, subconsciously searching for, he knew it. For a Padawan was meant to stay by their Master, were they not?

Qui-Gon was lying on his back, his long hair matted with blood. There were deep gashes across his chest and abdomen, and his familiar lightsaber hilt was next to him where it had fallen from its Master's grip. His eyes were open, staring blankly into the smoke, which blew above him. He looked peaceful, not that it was any real kind of consolation.

Obi-Wan fell to his knees next to the body of his Master. He wanted to scream, to weep – but no tears came to his eyes. There was only a feeling of deep numbness in his soul, as he stared at Qui-Gon's lifeless face. His mind refused to comprehend it, but his heart was aching at the sight. Why hadn't he been at his Master's side, as was his place? Why hadn't he fought with him? Maybe he could have helped him, saved him…or at least have had the honour of falling with him. Touching the gashes lightly, solemnly, Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon's blood on his fingertips.

_Qui-Gon was dead because of him. Siri, Bant, Quinlan…_

_All of this was because of him. All this death, of his friends, those he loved…it was all his fault…_

He hadn't been able to stop it…(what hadn't he been able to stop? He couldn't remember…) _they were dead because of him_…it was all his fault…if he had just been there sooner…been better at being a Jedi…been able to do something, _anything,_ right for once…he wouldn't have this weight, this guilt…_it was his fault_…he had caused this…_he should've been the one to die_…

Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open. He was covered in cold sweat, lying uncomfortably on the floor of his prison, breathing harshly and unevenly, like he had run a race. When he closed his eyes he could still see the fire and death of the nightmare, the dead faces of his friends, of Qui-Gon…and even saw it in the deepest shadows of his cell, in the darkness. He could feel unshed tears in his eyes.

It had been so real…he looked down at his hand, fully expecting them to be covered in the blood that was not his own. There was nothing on them. He was alone, in the darkness, with his ghosts.

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair as he tried to banish the images of the nightmare from his mind. He felt physically sick, and wanted to vomit because he felt so bad, but knew he wouldn't. Instead, he leant his head back against the wall, closing his eyes, calming his racing heart and breathing deeply and slowly, waiting for the nausea to pass.

After a while it did, and Obi-Wan opened his eyes to the familiar darkness of his cell. He felt…drained…_terrible_…the feelings of the nightmare did not leave him, even though the visual images had faded somewhat from his mind.

He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. It was so intense it hurt, and Obi-Wan hung his head in his hands. It had been his fault they had all died. He hadn't been there to help, to protect, to fight…and now they were all gone. Died in vain, because of him…no. It had been a _dream_, for Sithspit's sake! It wasn't real. _But it felt real._ _It could have been a premonition. It could be the Force's warning that you will bring death to those around you._

What if Qui-Gon was caught and killed by Xanatos? That was what Xanatos wanted: revenge on Qui-Gon for the death of his father, Crion. That was what he was aiming for, why he went to all this trouble. He would do anything to take revenge on Qui-Gon…and if Qui-Gon died, Obi-Wan knew it would be his fault – he would carry it on his conscience until he himself died. He would never forgive himself for being the reason Qui-Gon came here in the first place and fell into this trap.

Another thing he couldn't do right. Was there no end to things he screwed up? Always making things worse, always causing problems. Getting into trouble, no matter that his intentions were for the best, it never mattered in the end. He tried to help and ended up hurting instead. And then he had to crawl back to Qui-Gon for help.

He had never been good enough, for anything or anyone. The Temple had cast him out; Qui-Gon had initially refused to take him as an apprentice. He couldn't be what was wanted of him, no matter how much he tried, trained and learned. The expectations upon him seemed impossible to meet – but not for those around him. His fellow Padawans – his _friends_ – were praised left and right for their own areas of expertise, he was told to work harder and try to achieve something.

He tried to be a respectful and obedient Padawan, and couldn't even do that right. The times he had disobeyed Qui-Gon purposefully because he had to do what the Force told him was right, then been incessantly lectured about it. All the times he had stood with Qui-Gon as the Jedi Master took things into his own hands – sometimes against the Council – without complaint or opinion.

Obi-Wan knew, he was sure, that sometimes Qui-Gon looked at him and asked himself what he had been thinking, taking a reject from the Jedi Temple as his apprentice. What had he thought would come of it? Had he thought that maybe Obi-Wan was pitiful – or had it been another project of his? Over the years Qui-Gon had taken strange creatures – both sentient and not-so – under his wing. Obi-Wan had never seen the real sense of it…was that all Obi-Wan was to him? Another project to better?

And then there was that which Obi-Wan held closed in his mind. It was his fault…he had killed, _murdered_…Bruck's death still haunted him so much. It was hidden deep, underneath Jedi teachings and lighter memories, but now it came back in full clarity. They had been fighting – never liked one another anyway – in the Temple, in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Bruck had turned to the Dark Side, had been helping Xanatos. He had slipped in mid-fight, fallen from the top of the waterfall, hit a rock and been hurled onto the grassy bank…Obi-Wan had tried to reach for him, save him, but had missed.

The memory brought back something Bruck had said while they fought. He had said that Obi-Wan was a disgrace to the Jedi Order, because he left on Melida/Daan. Maybe he was. Maybe he always had been and only just realized what those around him already recognised. A disgrace. Pitiful, pathetic and worthless.

Melida/Daan. Cerasi and Neild. Had he made the right decision, all those years ago? Left the place where excelling was the norm, and expectations took over life. Joined the Youth, where life was a day at a time, and the greater good was the greatest thing. Maybe he should have stayed. They didn't judge him…that was a lie. They had blamed him – Neild had – when Cerasi had been shot and died.

Was everyone against him?

Was there nowhere he felt good about himself?

Was there nowhere he could call home?

Obi-Wan felt the tears beginning again, and this time, they fell. He watched them fall onto the stone floor of his cell, tiny droplets of moisture. Why couldn't there be a time, any time, when the galaxy was simple? When responsibility and expectation faded for a time, and people could just _be_?

Why couldn't everyone stop thinking about _themselves_?

Depression was not a Jedi trait. It was not only extreme emotion, but also one that was close to the Dark Side.

_It's not like I'm a Jedi now. I'm a captive._

_

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Eeep. That chapter was not fun to write, but I am pleased with the outcome. I know I dragged it out, but there was heaps of stuff I wanted to mention. Reviews aid the Jedi in their search for Obi-Wan...


	11. Welcomes and Whips

And so, my dearest readers (is it me or are you vanishing? Damn) I have another chapter for you. Heh, yesterday I found a cartoon a mate of mine had drawn. It shows little Ep1 Anakin sitting on the ground absorbed in a Gameboy, with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan behind him. Obi-Wan is saying "I'm not jealous! He's going to be a vengeful and arrogant youth who will break the Jedi Code with an illict sexual relationship, eventally aid the corrupt downfall of the Republic, kill children during a slaughter of the entire Jedi Order, allow and then serve a tyrannical Emperor of the Galaxy, attempt to kill his own son and eventally murder me in an epic dual decades from now!". To which Qui-Gon is simply replying, "Oh, Obi - don't exaggerate.".

Coolness. The person who drew that is reading this (I think) so check it out - still got it!

Anyway, another chapter for your reading pleasure.

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Qui-Gon watched neutrally as the Delta-12 _Skysprite_, which was being piloted by Jedi Master Tholme and his Senior Padawan Quinlan Vos, touched down in front of the cruiser he himself had been travelling on. Behind him, Kit and Bant watched it too. They would take the _Skysprite_ to Aquaris, stopping of briefly on Telasea to refuel. Bant was still regretting the Council's call, and both Jedi Masters knew she wanted to stay and find Obi-Wan – but she had held her tongue and opinion, respectful of the Council's request.

Together, Qui-Gon, Kit and Bant descended the lowered ramp and met Tholme and Quinlan at the bottom. A stern-faced man with dark hair, Tholme was roughly the same age as Qui-Gon, and the two had known each other years ago while training at the Temple. While never the _best_ of friends, they were friends who certainly respected one another and saw the other as an equal.

Quinlan Vos, his apprentice, was a gifted boy from the planet Kiffex. Tholme had discovered Quinlan on a trip there, when he was acting as a Jedi Watchman, and had taken the boy back to Coruscant for testing. Although slightly older than the usual age, the Council had agreed to his being accepted into training at the Temple, and Tholme had taken Quinlan as Padawan when the time came. He had well developed psychometric powers – he could read emotions and memories from inanimate objects – a trait of his homeworld. Now, at twenty-four, he was a striking young man, with long, black dreadlocks and the familiar, thin band of gold across his face; stretching under his eyes to either side of his face.

They had fought together – that is, the four of them: Quinlan and Tholme, and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan – in the Stark Hyperspace War, years ago. It was here Quinlan and Obi-Wan had become close friends. Quinlan had once been left with them on Ragoon VI, while Tholme had been on an individual mission. He had almost died, falling off a waterfall and into the river, and Obi-Wan had jumped in after, instinctively, to save his friend – and almost drowned as well, but Qui-Gon had sensed trouble and pulled them both out. Quinlan didn't like to talk about it.

"Greetings, Master Jinn and Master Fisto," Tholme said formally as he approached. Standing at his Master's shoulder, Quinlan bowed in silent greeting, smiling slightly at Bant, his fellow apprentice.

"Greetings, Master Tholme," Qui-Gon said in reply. "I'm grateful that you and your apprentice agreed to aid me."

Tholme shrugged. "The Council wished it, and so I obeyed. It is a terrible situation, Master Jinn; that I understand. It must be hard for you."

Qui-Gon nodded, but did not reply. Tholme shifted his gaze to the Nautolan. "Master Fisto, the _Skysprite_'s hyperspace ring is waiting above us whenever you wish to use it."

Kit smiled. "My thanks. We should probably leave as soon as possible – the situation on Aquaris was beginning to escalate dangerously last we heard. Qui-Gon," he turned to his fellow Jedi Master, and placed a hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder. "Trust yourself, and trust the Force. You _will_ find him."

"Thank you, Kit."

Letting his hand fall, Kit turned away, towards the _Skysprite_, Bant with him. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but held her tongue as she walked away to the waiting ship. Behind the backs of Tholme and Quinlan, but visible to Qui-Gon, she turned, looking back at him, and bowed deeply, her silver eyes conveying her worry for Obi-Wan and her hope that he would be found. With a barely perceptible nod, Qui-Gon acknowledged her, thanking her silently for her support.

Tholme was watching him closely, but if he saw a change of emotion in Qui-Gon's face, he said nothing. The three Jedi watched the _Skysprite_ take off and vanish into the sky, before Qui-Gon turned and walked back up the ramp of the cruiser, Tholme and Quinlan behind him. Tholme sent Qui-Gon another sidelong look, before sending Quinlan to unpack and meditate for a time. The apprentice looked surprised for a moment but he covered it and it vanished, as he nodded and turned away with a word of agreement.

Qui-Gon watched him go, before heading to the cockpit and running the system checks. Tholme followed him and silently helped from the co-pilot's chair, and before long their small cruiser was in hyperspace, beginning its four-day journey to Dromund Kaas.

"The Council filled us in on everything you told them…I can't think what it would be like to loose an apprentice in such a way," Tholme said quietly, bringing Qui-Gon out from his thoughts. "Quinlan…he's the best apprentice I've ever trained, I think. I don't know what I would do if he went missing."

Qui-Gon smiled slightly. Tholme was quietly yet fiercely proud of all his apprentices, no matter how many he had. He kept it hidden, being seen as a stoic and strict Jedi Master – slightly like Qui-Gon himself, Qui-Gon supposed – but Qui-Gon had seen how much he cared about Quinlan in the Stark Hyperspace Wars, and how affectionate he was towards the young man. Just like him and Obi-Wan…

"It wouldn't matter as much if our mind link wasn't blocked, Master Tholme," he replied, and couldn't help smiling as Tholme pulled a face.

"Forget the formalities, Qui-Gon."

The relaxed moment was lost as Qui-Gon began to speak to his friend softly. "Did the Council tell you of the experience I had during meditation?"

He watched as Tholme shook his head. "Only that you had tried and not succeeded."

"There was more than that. I focused on the link – according to Kit, it took me hours – and felt…pain, light and far away, but strong. And there was darkness, Tholme. That is what worries me the most…" He trailed off, imagining all the possible horrors and tortures Obi-Wan could be going through…

"We'll find him, Qui-Gon. The Order will lose a valuable Jedi should he…well, you have our support. Even Quinlan's been quiet since he heard. The Council have not told many people at the Temple, only those that should know." Tholme looked past Qui-Gon for a moment, staring at nothing. When Qui-Gon looked at him, slightly confused, Tholme simply said, "Quinlan. He's asking if he may join us."

"Of course. He reminds me of Obi-Wan, in a way. The two of them have some similarities…"

"They do indeed."

Quinlan appeared a few seconds later. He bowed respectfully to both Jedi Masters, and leant on the wall near Tholme, who filled him in on what Qui-Gon had told him, sparing his friend from having to relate it again. Quinlan looked troubled when he finished.

"Do you think Dromund Kaas is the place, Masters?"

Qui-Gon crossed his arms. "I don't know. I don't even know what I'm looking for there."

Quinlan nodded, tucking his own arms into the sleeves of his Jedi robe. "I hope he's okay."

Qui-Gon looked up at the Senior Padawan, who was looking down with sightless eyes, his thoughts far from the small ship, across the stars with his friend.

_I do too, Quinlan. I do too._

* * *

"I thought I'd try something different."

Xanatos' voice split through Obi-Wan's empty sleep, and he sat up slowly, staring at his captor blankly. A flicker of something – doubt, concern – or was it _triumph_? – flashed in Xanatos' eyes and was gone, hidden from view. Concerned about the lack of response from his victim? Or pleased Obi-Wan was broken beyond reaction?

Then Xanatos smiled in triumph. His prisoner was not trying to hide his emotions – they were _gone_. Obi-Wan had broken, mentally, spiritually – and was now a shell of his Jedi self. He was now a pathetic captive, nothing more.

Obi-Wan stared at him blankly, unaware of Xanatos' thoughts. He was so tired of it all…he wanted for Xanatos to do whatever he had planned, inflict whatever pain was coming to him…and then leave, let him sleep…

Sleep was filled with nightmare, waking with the slow drag of time. Xanatos' beatings and torture hurt him, but he no longer cared, just gave himself over to the pain, willing himself to pass out or die. It no longer mattered what happened to him – _had it ever? _– whether he lived or died, he was alone and no one was coming to help him.

No one was coming.

Xanatos was watching him, curling the tongue of a laser whip around one hand, a twisted smile on his face. Laser whips delivered stinging strikes, cutting and burning at once, and had been outlawed on many planets because due to their uncivilised and horrible nature. It was the weapon of a pirate, a slaver, and a torturer - and now a madman. It would cause Obi-Wan torment and pain, as the wounds would be deep. The Force had abandoned him; he could not heal his injuries.

He was alone.

* * *

Qui-Gon woke, shaking off the dreams that had gripped him. He could not remember any of the dreams specifically, but knew Obi-Wan had been there…he sighed, as he stood and made his way to the cockpit.

"Good timing, Master Qui-Gon," said Quinlan, from where he was at the controls. "We should be coming out of hyperspace in about ten minutes."

"Where's Tholme?"

"Meditating."

Qui-Gon sat down in the co-pilot's seat. Almost four days of travel. Four days of meditation, exercise, and anxiety. Quinlan seemed to be thinking about Obi-Wan almost as much as Qui-Gon was, but Qui-Gon doubted the apprentice was plagued with nightmares like he was at night.

A day or so ago, Quinlan had asked to see Obi-Wan's Jedi cloak, to see of he could pick up a psychometric reading on it. After a moment of concentration, when Quinlan had sat perfectly motionless with Tholme and Qui-Gon watching him closely, the Padawan had opened his eyes and told them what he saw.

"Obi-Wan was injured – not badly, a shallow blaster graze to his arm. You were right, Qui-Gon – he fell into a gassed room. A figure in a cloak came to get him – they used the Force…that was all I could get, I'm sorry."

When he wasn't talking with Tholme and Quinlan, or going through the motions of training exercises to pass the time, Qui-Gon often found himself sitting with Obi-Wan's lightsaber hilt, thinking, remembering. Meditation often descended into memory, and he although he tried their link again and again, he never went as deep as he had when he had found the darkness.

"Qui-Gon?" Tholme had arrived, and Qui-Gon hadn't even noticed, wrapped in his thoughts.

"My apologies. Yes, Tholme?"

"We're here."

* * *

The whip cracked again, licking his back and side, adding another gash to the collection on his body. He cried out as he felt it. Xanatos laughed at his victim, lying bloodied and weeping on the cell floor. How wonderful – dear Obi-Wan was broken more than he had thought, reduced to a sobbing child. Any rebellious or hopeful feelings were gone, replaced with despair and darkness, and, of course, pain. Excellent.

Xanatos himself was feeling slightly tired from using the whip, and so he coiled it around his hands again and leant against the wall. "You know what, Obi-Wan? I'm going to let you live."

Obi-Wan did not reply, but merely made the low whimpering sound of a sentient in severe pain.

Xanatos swiftly crouched down next to him, looking over the blood and dirt covered figure closely. "No, you'll live. But you will _hear_ him. When I catch Qui-Gon, and I torture him – you'll hear. You will hear him _screaming_ and know it is your fault. And then, when he _dies_…at my hand…I will take you to some random planet and leave you there, broken and consumed by grief."

Xanatos wasn't even sure if Obi-Wan was listening. But the sounds of his own words were getting him worked up. He stood, pacing the small room. "I wanted to kill him, and planned a million ways to do it. But then, I realised – he had made me _suffer_. He had taken my father, my home from me – my life! So, I had to make him suffer before he died. And that's where you come in.

"By taking you from him, he feels what I felt, emotionally hurting him. By _breaking_ you, I break his legacy. He will leave nothing behind in this world, no show of who or what he was…and when he sees you – for see you he will, I will make sure of it – he will see what you have become: a broken shell, a pathetic child. And he will break from the _sight_.

"Then he will die. And you will live with the memory that it was all because of you."

He laughed again, the sound bouncing off the walls, as he reached out a hand and let the Dark Side power flow, throwing the prone form of Obi-Wan against the wall with a wave of Force-lightning.

Every nerve, every fibre of Obi-Wan's body was screaming…he might have been screaming too, he couldn't tell anymore…the Force was gone – _why him?_ –, he could feel only the white hot pain of Xanatos' torture…the darkness was coming, burning…Xanatos was laughing at him, revelling in the power he commanded… it was consuming him, filling him, killing him…

And then, abruptly, it stopped. Xanatos stood, a look of mad exhilaration on his face.

"He's here. Qui-Gon's here."

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So it all comes together on Drommund Kaas...please review! 


	12. The Search and The Stone

Another chapter...I know there are people who want to read this and were impatient for an update. Hope this is okay!

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Qui-Gon felt it as soon as he stepped off the cruiser's landing ramp. It hit him like a mental wave – _darkness_. The presence of darkness here was stifling. It was in the air, the ground, the trees, the stones…everywhere. It felt cold, sickening…Qui-Gon looked over at Tholme and Quinlan, both who looked how he felt – overwhelmed and a little ill.

There was something else, too. As the initial wave of darkness faded to become a background presence, Qui-Gon felt the subtle nudgings of the Force. The energy of the Light Side was fainter here, but still present, and its message was clear to him. Qui-Gon felt his spirits lift.

"He's here. Obi-Wan is here."

Tholme and Quinlan looked at him sharply, initally disbelieving. There was something in Qui-Gon's eyes which made them unquestioningly believe him. He _was_ Obi-Wan's Master, after all – if anyone could find and/or sense Obi-Wan, it was him.

"Are you sure?" Tholme asked in an undertone.

Qui-Gon nodded. "The Force is telling me so. He's here."

Quinlan buried his hands in the sleeves of his robes. "Where do we start, then?"

"Well, Dromund Kaas is a known Dark Side planet," said Tholme, looking between his friend and his apprentice. "There was a Dark Side academy here many years ago, but it is long since deserted. Other than that, there was no other civilisation – no settlements ever survived. For some reason, they all lasted for only a matter of years and then were abandoned. We think it was the Dark Side energy of the planet. You can feel it; in the air, the ground, everything…" Tholme paused, looking up at the tress around them. "We should be careful."

"Where is the old academy?" Quinlan asked, and his Master pointed into the trees in reply.

"I set us down not far from it. It's presumably the best place to start…"

Without a word, Qui-Gon set off through the trees in the direction Tholme was pointing. He could sense Obi-Wan here, but only his presence, nothing more. He didn't know if he was hurt, or trapped, or what was happening…but at least he was here. Qui-Gon had found him…now he only had a _planet_ to search…

The three Jedi came upon the ruins of the desolate academy after only a few minutes walk. It had been abandoned for tens, if not hundreds of years – the stone was hardly visible underneath the wilderness and moss that had taken it over, but it didn't disguise the fact that this used to be a group of majestic temple-like buildings and towers. The darkness was stronger here, like a deep burning in the back of the mind, making one feel nauseous and almost detached from reality.

Qui-Gon stood silently for a moment, trying to search the Force for answers about Obi-Wan, but the Light Side of the Force was silent, smothered in the darkness. It had not vanished, but was severely weaker here…the buildings seemed to be undisturbed, time being the only thing that touched them. On the surface, they did not seem to have had any living being come in contact with them…but surely there was some sort of clue somewhere here.

Qui-Gon looked up at a statue, its sharp features worn away by time. It was clearly a male Dark Jedi – or, Force knows, a _Sith_ – of some kind, his sabre raised high in an aggressive stance. It made Qui-Gon feel uneasy just looking upon it, and so he turned away, back to the courtyard. Quinlan waved over to him from a side passageway.

Quinlan was standing next to a small stone arch, covered in moss and vines like the rest of the ruins. Next to him, Tholme had a hand on the ground, looking for markings.

"We think this path has been recently disturbed," said Quinlan to Qui-Gon as he approached. "It doesn't seem to be as desolate as some of the other doorways."

Tholme stood, dusting off his hands. "It _does_ seem to be the odd one out. The other doors appear uniform – they all have the same dealings of time upon them – but this one is different: the dirt is less, the passage is almost clear. Only a small difference, but a difference all the same."

Without a word, Quinlan bent down, reaching into the shadows of the archway and drawing out a rock. It was only a normal piece of stone, broken and dirty, but Quinlan closed his eyes, allowing any psychometric reading to come to him. A faint one came through the haze – a figure, cloaked in darkness and power…idly tossing something, a small object – a stone? – from hand to hand…he threw it out into the courtyard, and turned away with a spiteful laugh…

Dropping the rock from his hands, Quinlan opened his eyes and stood, immediately moving towards where he thought the object had landed. He ignored Tholmes's called questions and searched a patch of wild grass near the statue. After a few moments searching, he was rewarded. His fingers found a small, smooth stone, and he could feel the Light Side emanating from it from it – so it was Force-sensitive. Turning in it over in his hands, he returned to Qui-Gon and Tholme.

"What do you have there, Padawan?"

"Something I found, Master. I saw – from one of the rocks in the doorway – a man throw this away…"

Qui-Gon gently took it from him with a harsh intake of breath, staring blankly at the familiar stone in his hand. _Oh, Force_.

"What is it, Qui-Gon?" asked Tholme. "Is it Obi-Wan's?"

"I gave it to him for his thirteenth birthday." Qui-Gon didn't need to say any more. Tholme nodded, understanding in his eyes: the thirteenth birthday of a Padawan was an important one. So Obi-Wan definitely was here, and if Quinlan's vision was anything to go on, he _was_ down _this_ passageway. Qui-Gon tucked the stone into an inner pocket of his tunic and started into the darkness, Tholme and Quinlan behind him.

The darkness in the passageway was almost physically thick, so Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber to provide light, but the green blade cast an unearthly and unnerving glow over the walls and path – so he ignited Obi-Wan's blue blade instead. It felt strange that Obi-Wan was seemingly helping him without actually being there…Qui-Gon glanced down at the sabre hilt in his hand. Obi-Wan's lightsaber hilt was unique – they all were – but Qui-Gon could see that his Padawan had taken inspiration from his own lightsaber…strange, he didn't think he had really looked at it properly before.

The path was straight and narrow, its high walls cracked with age. It had only a few turns, little more than sharp corners, and Qui-Gon sensed they were travelling deeper into the academy ruins. There were no signs of life or habitation until the six or seventh stretch of corridor: a small glowstick, hanging on the wall. The three Jedi exchanged a look, and in one motion Tholme and Quinlan unclipped their deactivated sabres from their belts.

At the next corner, they found themselves at a junction. "What way should we go?" Tholme asked Qui-Gon softly. Although he said it quietly, his voice seemed unnaturally loud in the dark enclosed space.

"I don't know." Both passages were equally dark and identical. Qui-Gon looked slowly between the two options, trying to find a way to decide. The Force was silent. "I'll take the left path. You and Quinlan go right."

"Do you think it is a good idea to split up?"

"I don't think we have a choice."

With a nod, Tholme and Quinlan turned down the right-hand path. Qui-Gon watched Tholme ignite his green sabre for light, and soon the pale glow and the figures it illuminated faded into the darkness. He was alone, with only the blue radiance of Obi-Wan's sabre for comfort and light.

He started down the left-hand path. It looked exactly like all the others – cold, deserted, the walls cracked and the path itself rough stone. He didn't know where he was within the academy itself, but so far he had come across no other intersecting paths. Only the one he travelled on now. Was each step bringing him closer to his apprentice? Or was he getting slowly and slowly further away, having sent Tholme and Quinlan on the correct path?

Turing a corner, Qui-Gon could see a dull glow casting shallow light over the end of the corridor. Another glowstick. He _was_ on the right track. The corridor beyond had a glowstick every few meters, so he shut off Obi-Wan's lightsaber and replaced it on his belt, next to his own.

He didn't know what to expect. He hoped he could find Obi-Wan and get him out of here before he met who or what had imprisoned him. Obi-Wan's safe return was all that mattered.

He came to a crossroad. The path he was on lead away from him, but a staircase was on his right. Both corridor and stairs were lines with glowsticks – either could be the right way. After a moment's deliberation, Qui-Gon decided to climb the staircase. He didn't know why, it just felt right. Standing on the first step, Qui-Gon wondered what could be waiting for him at the top.

* * *

"It's a dead end, Master."

"I can see that, Quinlan. It seems Qui-Gon went the right way after all."

The path they had followed had gone up a few flights of stairs, twisted and turned back on itself and shown no more signs of life. The chamber they were now in was small and square, its stone walls bathed in the green glow of Tholme's lightsaber. It had no windows or decoration of any kind, only the single doorway from which they had entered. Turning to leave, Tholme felt a warning in the Force just before the floor beneath them gave way.

They fell a short way into a small room, where a shadowy figure watched them through a Force-shield. He waved in greeting, but both Jedi could feel only darkness – massive amounts of it – emanating from this person, and knew the friendly gesture was mocking.

Without a word, he walked over and placed a hand, palm down, on the shield. A flicker of a smile crossed his pale features, and suddenly Tholme felt the agonising pain of Dark Side energy flow through him. It was coming from this figure, this pale person…how was this much power possible? Tholme tired to push through the pain, the dark energy, create some resistance, but the Dark Side shattered everything he tried to do.

Quinlan cried out and fell to his knees, his Master following soon after. He could feel the darkness of unconsciousness creeping up on him through the agonising, burning pain…he was going to pass out…

Xanatos watched with a smile as the two Jedi collapsed. He didn't want them causing trouble, he wanted them unconscious. He knew how to manipulate the power he had to give only a particular amount of pain…he had wanted Obi-Wan to suffer, so had not hurt him enough to make him pass out, but these two were different, and of no consequence to him. Let them watch the torture, yes, but kill them later. He was in no rush.

* * *

There was nothing in the chamber at the top of the staircase. Or, at least that was what it appeared on first sight. Qui-Gon stood for a moment, searching with what Force he still had command over – it was almost gone here…he paced the room, searching for something, anything…

A wall turned clear as he walked near it. And, inside, he saw…

"Oh, Force…" he whispered, kneeling, as he surveyed the captive inside. "Obi-Wan?"

The slumped figure in the centre of the floor was what had once been his apprentice. Obi-Wan was kneeling limply, shoulders sagging and head bowed. Qui-Gon could see the marks of torture covering him – deep, dark, almost black, bruises; bloodied cuts and grazes; brutal slash marks from a whip; dark dried blood. But overall, it was the telltale signs of inner damage that hurt Qui-Gon the most.

Obi-Wan had no light in his eyes, no life. He showed no recognition towards Qui-Gon, and didn't move when his Master spoke to him. He just stared blankly at the ground, a shell of the young man he had been. Broken.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes briefly in despair. He had come too late. Obi-Wan had been put through hell and beyond, and was now a shattered soul. Could he be saved?

"Obi-Wan, my Padawan. Who did this to you?"

Obi-Wan's eyes slowly shifted from their focus on nothing to meet Qui-Gon's own. The Jedi Master was shaken by how empty and lifeless they were, how alien they felt. Then Obi-Wan's gaze shifted again, and he stared blankly over Qui-Gon's shoulder. There was someone behind him.

Qui-Gon stood slowly, turning, prepared to fight.

But he wasn't prepared for who stepped out of the shadows.

"Hello, Qui-Gon."

* * *

Yeah, I'm dragging it out, I know, but it's fun! The next chapter, things get interesting...reviews _might_ make everything okay for our beloved characters...


	13. Life and Death

Yes, I left you on an evil cliffhanger! But you guys have twisted my arm - I was going to wait a few more days to put this up, but I'm doing it now. Bad influences, you lot :D

Here we go...

* * *

Qui-Gon's blood ran cold. 

This wasn't happening.

He had _died_. So long ago, on Telos IV. Gone from reality to live as a dark memory from the past. Qui-Gon had thought it _finally_ _over _when Xanatos had leapt into the pool of acid, never to trouble him again…he had let go of the memory and all Xanatos had symbolised…and put it behind him…

Xanatos spread his arms wide, looking melodramatically disappointed. "Not pleased to see me, Master?"

Qui-Gon stared at his fallen apprentice, speechless. What words were there for this situation?

Crossing his arms, Xanatos smirked; his charateristic expression. "I'm alive and well, Qui-Gon. You've failed again."

"You died," Qui-Gon whispered, his mind unable to comprehend what was before him.

"No, you _think_ I died. I'm cleverer than that, Qui-Gon. Surely you could have worked that one out? No? Pity. But then, I did surpass you. And now you can't even accept that I'm alive! I can see it in your eyes. I _know_ you."

Xanatos being behind all this made some kind of twisted sense. He was clever enough to pull it off, had the money for the droids, the knowledge of Dromund Kaas' Dark Side history, and had the hatred to do it all. Willing himself to believe this was real, Qui-Gon placed a hand on his sabre hilt. Xanatos laughed.

"Come now, you think you can beat me? Look at what I've done to your _precious_ apprentice! I'm far stronger now than I ever was before – and _you_ are weakened here. That is the magnificent power of this place!" he waved a hand at the stone walls. "A Dark Side Force-nexus. You have _no idea_ how good the power feels, Qui-Gon."

Silently, Qui-Gon unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and held it, deactivated, in his hand. Xanatos' smirk faded into a scowl. "You can try…but you will fail."

Qui-Gon activated his lightsaber and took a step towards Xanatos in one movement, determined to rid the galaxy of this evil once and for all. He held no anger or spite within him - as much as it hurt to think of all Xanatos had ever done, and all the suffering he had caused, this had to be done for the right reasons. Xanatos was too dangerous to be left alive: this was simply justice.

Xanatos flicked his wrist as Qui-Gon neared and the Jedi Master felt agony pass through his body – _Force-lightning_. He dropped his lightsaber from the intense, burning pain – was this what he had felt from Obi-Wan? – as it forced him to his knees. Behind him, he thought he heard Obi-Wan shift slightly, whisper something he couldn't make out through the haze of pain that was stabbing into him.

"This is _your_ fault, Obi-Wan." Xanatos taunted, letting the lightning fade from his victim. "Your Master suffers because of you. Because you couldn't do anything yourself."

Qui-Gon tried to raise his head, tell Obi-Wan that Xanatos was lying, but another bout of extreme pain stopped him from doing so. He was close to passing out, and could feel the darkness of unconsciousness upon him…

Xanatos smiled as Qui-Gon slumped to the ground, unconscious. Well, that had been easier than expected. He pressed a button on his wrist-comp and a hidden droid marched out of the darkness. He directed it to pick up the limp body of Qui-Gon, taking the two lightsabers from the body as the droid marched past him and down the stairs with its burden.

Qui-Gon's was still the same as it always had been, even when Xanatos himself had been an apprentice. The other was clearly Obi-Wan's. Xanatos flipped it in his hand, activating it and looking at the blue blade nonchalantly. He swung it casually a few times, then deactivated it, heading for the stairs as the wall of Obi-Wan's prison turned opaque again. It did not block out Xanatos' final, soft comment to his captive.

"You'll hear him scream, Obi-Wan. I promise."

* * *

"Qui-Gon?" 

Qui-Gon groaned instinctively as he opened his eyes and the world came back into focus. He was on the floor of a stone room, lit by glowsticks, one wrist chained to the wall behind him. Both his lightsaber – and Obi-Wan's – were gone, his head hurt like it had been slammed against the floor – and his body like it had been crushed by the Temple.

The source of the voice was Tholme. As Qui-Gon's vision cleared, he could see his friend and Quinlan in a Force-cage at the end of the room, about five or six meters from him. Both looked weary but physically unharmed.

"I see you're in the same predicament?" Qui-Gon said as he brought himself up to kneel, facing his friends.

"We are. Who is this madman, Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon hesitated a moment before answering. "It's Xanatos. Surely you remember him, Tholme?"

"Xanatos? But he died on Telos IV?"

"Apparently not."

"Master," asked Quinlan quietly from his position next to Tholme, "who is Xanatos?"

Tholme looked over at Qui-Gon, his expression clearly asking if he wanted to tell Quinlan himself, or wanted Tholme to answer. Qui-Gon looked at the Padawan and addressed him directly. "Xanatos was an old apprentice of mine who turned to the Dark Side, Quinlan. He hunted me and tried to kill me many times – attacked the Temple once, too. I tracked him to his homeplanet of Telos IV, where he jumped into an acidic pool rather than be caught by me. We thought him dead."

"But, I'm not," Xanatos said as he swept in, placing the two lightsabers he held on a small table. It also held a whip and other evil-looking instruments. Xanatos caressed a few momentarily before turning to the chained Qui-Gon and clapping his hands together. "So, where should we begin?"

Before Qui-Gon could answer, he was incapacitated with the burning lightning again. He heard Tholme call out, yelling at Xanatos to stop, but all Tholme got in return was his own apprentice being subjected to the same torture. "Speak again, Jedi, and he'll get even more."

Qui-Gon felt the pain lift, and he reached out to the Force for help. It was so much weaker here, and it almost slipped from him. But it was with him, he could feel it. As he began to create shields to help him, Xanatos struck him with the whip, laughing as it cut deep into Qui-Gon's shoulder.

Xanatos looked at Qui-Gon pityingly as he coiled the whip around his hand. "I want Obi-Wan to hear you scream – you'll have to do better than that, Qui-Gon."

He stretched out a hand, letting the lightning flow from him, into the captive he had before him. How good it felt! Finally, Xanatos could make Qui-Gon properly suffer for what he had done. His screams and pitiful cries were like music to Xanatos' ears – such a sound he had been waiting so many years to hear!

The pain built. Every nerve, every fibre of Qui-Gon's being was screaming…he might have been screaming too, he couldn't tell anymore…the Force wasn't there, he could feel only the white hot pain of Xanatos' torture…it was consuming him, filling him, killing him…

* * *

He could hear Qui-Gon screaming. The sound burned into his mind, tore at his soul, pierced his heart. Qui-Gon was suffering, and it was _all_ his fault…Obi-Wan tried to block out the sound and focus; but focus wouldn't come, and the sound wouldn't leave. It was driving him mad. 

Emotion swirled within him, and guilt rose to the surface. It was his fault…his fault Qui-Gon had come to find his worthless apprentice – probably because losing two Padawans wouldn't look good to the Council – and so, his fault his Master had been caught and was now getting tortured at the hands of a madman, his fault he had been stupid enough to get caught in the first place…

How _could_ he be so stupid? Stupid enough to get caught, and then to _stay_ captured and not find a means of escape? By the Force! He was a Senor Padawan! He was better than this – or was he? Was he capable of doing _anything_ right? He couldn't even get out of a stupid cell.

He feared for Qui-Gon's life. What would happen if Qui-Gon died, as Xanatos had so wickedly promised? He would never forgive himself, the Order would never accept him back after his carelessness, never forgive him…he would be lost. He would waste away with the grief and guilt…he was the reason Qui-Gon died. He didn't do anything to help, or try to give his own life instead. He just sat and listened to his Master's screams. Pathetic and helpless. _Weak._

The screams died away for a moment, and Obi-Wan heard the chilling laugh of Xanatos fill the gap. Xanatos. He was the one putting Qui-Gon through this, the one hell-bent on revenge. Obi-Wan's hands curled into fists. Everything he had ever done, was still doing, came back to him in an instant. That bastard. Obi-Wan could feel the stirrings of rage and hate beginning. He would kill Xanatos, for everything. For Qui-Gon's torture, for his own…for making them suffer, making the galaxy suffer. Revenge.

Qui-Gon cried out again, louder than before, and something snapped within his listening apprentice. Obi-Wan yelled in anger, felling power fill into him from somewhere – he didn't know, or care, where. There was no light or dark, only him. He stood, gathering the power around him, before slamming his fist against the Force-sensitive wall of his prison. With a sharp crack, the wall turned clear for an instant before it split down the centre, leaving Obi-Wan with a gap to escape.

He stepped through the crack, seeing for the first time the world beyond his prison. Taking in the small chamber and the staircase in an instant, he ran down the stairs and through the glowstick-lit corridor, towards the horrific sounds. He could feel raw power crackling through him, making him faster, and sharpening his movements. He had to get there and find Xanatos. _He would kill him._

Of that, he had no doubt.

Using the Force, he swept the door to the room aside, not caring as it smashed into the wall. Within, he could see – who was that? Tholme and Quinlan? What were they doing here? – in a Force-cage, watching what was going on. Xanatos stood in the centre of the room, looking surprised, and, beside him, Obi-Wan could see Qui-Gon, crouched on the ground in pain, one wrist pathetically chained to the wall.

Xanatos bared his teeth and glared at Obi-Wan, putting out a hand. Knowing what was coming, Quinlan called a warning from his cage, but it didn't matter. Quinlan watched on, amazed, as Obi-Wan caught Xanatos' lightning and deflected it into the wall. There was something different about his friend, though, something he couldn't place, somehting _wrong_…

Xanatos snarled, pulling out his red lightsaber, but before he could even activate it, if flew from his hand to Obi-Wan's open palm, and _he_ switched it on, letting the crimson blade light his face frighteningly. Xanatos took a step back, away from this…this…_person_, who he had thought nothing more that a broken shell.

"I will make you _suffer_."

It was little more than a whisper from Obi-Wan's lips, but it was loud enough to carry around the entire room. It was dangerously low, and held promises of pain and torment.

There was a soft clink of metal as Qui-Gon managed to look up from his knees to Obi-Wan. He could sense the power emanating from his apprentice – dark power – and see the dark hate in his eyes. There was no light now, only anger and revenge. He had to reach him, draw him away from the darkness. "No, Obi-Wan…"

Xanatos seemed to have dismissed Obi-Wan's statement as idle talk. "That's not the Jedi way." He laughed.

Obi-Wan showed no emotion on his face as he lifted an arm until it was level with his shoulder. He didn't know how, but he knew what to do. Calling on the Force, it came immediately at his command, flooding into him, stronger than he had ever felt it. Lifting his arm higher, he couldn't resist a smirk as Xanatos was lifted off his feet, in to the air. Xanatos cried out and tried to struggle, but Obi-Wan shrugged aside his pathetic uses of the Force. He closed his hand into a loose fist slowly, as Xanatos began to gasp for breath and cry out in pain as his bones were crushed.

Obi-Wan could hear them break. Ignoring the gasps from the other captured Jedi, he kept crushing until Xanatos' presence in the Force vanished, and then he dropped the body unceremoniously to the ground.

Turning, Obi-Wan caught sight of the Jedi on the ground. Anger filled him again. _The Jedi._ They had left him to die. They had never thought he was any good, but had cast him out of the Temple, never really cared…he lifted a hand, calling the Force to his fingertips. Ice-blue lightning arched to the figure on the floor, and the Jedi cried out in pain.

Recognition flared in Obi-Wan's mind as he suddenly came back to himself, and released Qui-Gon from the lightning. With a strangled cry of his own, he staggered back a few steps as his Master began to breathe easier and get up. Out the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan could see Master Tholme and Quinlan staring at him, both speechless.

Oh, Force – _what had he done?_

Obi-Wan did the only thing that he could think of. He fled, running from the room, away from what he had done.

_What have I become?  
__

* * *

_

To all those who were expecting a rescue...ah, not quite. I can't believe I did that to him! Anyway, I'd love to hear what you think - so please review!


	14. Dark and Light

Dun dun dun...everybody wants this, don't they? I think you've waited long enough.

(By the way, the person who this story was originally for shouldn't forget that is still for them, okay Tawa? Love ya hun)

* * *

Obi-Wan didn't know where he was going. He just ran, unceasingly, never hesitating at corners and intersections, taking whatever path felt right. The scarlet glow of Xanatos' ignited lightsaber, still clutched in his hand, lit his way, bathing the passageways before him in blood-red light. The power that had felt so natural before now made him feel sick. 

Attacking Qui-Gon…how could he? The act had given him a burst of adrenaline and strength he didn't know he possessed – he only knew he had to get out of here, get _away_ from what he did. It had also cleared his mind; throwing everything into harsh, clear reality…his torture at Xanatos' hands now felt miles away, like it was months ago…he only felt panic, shock, _guilt_…he solidified his mental shields automatically, barely registering that the Force-bond he shared with Qui-Gon was now unblocked. He closed himself to it.

The stitch in his side was getting worse. He was running after being in captivity for Force knows how many days, with no food and water…he stopped, breathing hard, one hand on his side. The other, clutching the lightsaber, he held out before him, illuminating two paths. He could feel fresh air coming from the one on the left.

It led to a small courtyard, damaged by time and covered in wilderness. Xanatos' small starship sat in the middle like a strange black metal bird. Switching off the lightsaber, Obi-Wan jogged over to it, keying open the landing ramp without much difficulty. Xanatos _would_ use his own name as a code. Inside, he immediately set the ship into it's launch sequence – no time for the preliminary system checks, he had to get out of here, get away from what he'd done…

Where could he go? Obi-Wan randomly selected a destination from the nav computer: a planet he didn't see the name of, but it was only six hours away. That would do. It would _have_ to do. He had to go _now_.

Once the ship passed through Dromund Kaas' atmosphere and he put it into hyperspace, Obi-Wan felt his tormenting emotions building, and he threw Xanatos' lightsaber away from him, where it clattered to the floor of the cockpit, hidden by shadow.

_What had he done?_

He could feel the darkness coiled within him.

_What was he?_

Distraught, he buried his face in his hands.

* * *

What has happened to me? What have I become? 

_You killed Xanatos. Force-crushed his body, listened to his bones break…_

It wasn't the Jedi way.

_You are far beyond the Jedi now._

No! I am a Jedi!

_Jedi do not kill in cold blood. They do not murder...or have you forgotten Bruck? Instead the Jedi preach, withhold power, interfere! They use you, let you work hard and get no word of praise. But you couldn't even do that right – they cast you away to the Agricorps, a Temple reject with no Master…_

No… 

_They leave their own behind, did not care if you died. They have forsaken you. The Light has forsaken you. All your life, you have tried to do right – but ended up messing up, failing…_

I…no – Qui-Gon came for me…

_And you choked him! Attacked your own Master!_

I couldn't stop.

_Couldn't?_

I…I wouldn't stop.

_You saw the Jedi truly in that moment. It was only right to want revenge for how they have lied to you, how they have treated you, never given you support, only ever seen the wrong things…they have never liked you…_

No! It was a mistake, brought on by what I've been through. I let my emotions get the better of me. The Light did not forsake me; it was blocked from me, I turned away. I can turn back.

_It sounds hollow, doesn't it? You've never been good enough to them, never been what they wanted. The Jedi have lied to you for your whole life – why lie to yourself?_

It is no lie.

_Will he even forgive you for it? He never wanted you anyway - or have you forgotten? Qui-Gon would not forgive you, you're just a pathetic reject of the Order!_

He will – we will get through it. We have been through worse.

_Now_ that _is a downright lie! You betrayed him; tried to kill him. That's beyond anything else. There is no forgiveness for this. The Light has cast you away because of your actions…the final straw…they were relieved when you left on Melida/Daan, left them alone…_

No.

_The Darkness accepts you._

I will not turn.

_You have already accepted the power of the Dark Side. It courses through your veins, through your mind._

I will not – the Jedi…

_The Darkness lets you be who you are, not who the Jedi want you to be. It is not judgemental._

I can feel it…

_It will not forsake you._

It is with me.

_And always will be. Accept it. Realise your potential._

Such power…

_Right the wrongs of the galaxy._

Such strength…

_Use it._

Yes…

_Serve the Darkness and it will be your slave._

My slave…

_This is your path now._

_There is no redemption._ There is destiny.

_There is no peace._ There is emotion.

_There is no fear._ There is power.

_There is no serenity._ There is strength.

_There is no weakness._ There is Darkness.

* * *

Obi-Wan lifted his head from his hands. Calling Xanatos' lightsaber back to his hand with the Force, he took it as his own – as his original one had been lost, and besides, that had been a Jedi's weapon, a peaceful blue, whereas this one was a beautiful blood-red. He activated it, watching the red light illuminate the controls, testing the weight in his hand. Much better. Deactivating it, he stood, looking at his reflection in the window. His Jedi clothing was torn and dirty, stained with his own blood. It was a symbol of another life, another time. No more. 

Passing into what he guessed had been Xanatos' quarters, a small cabin near the cockpit, Obi-Wan found what he had been looking for – what he knew he would find – a black tunic and pants, boots, cloak…a few minutes later, looking at himself in the mirror Xanatos had in his quarters – that vain bastard – Obi-Wan couldn't help but grin darkly. Dressed in his fallen foe's clothes, stealing his ship and using his lightsaber? _Perfect_.

He suddenly remembered the lack of food he had had over the past…how long had it been? He had no idea, but it no longer mattered. He found the ship's supplies and ate gratefully, replenishing his body of the sustenance it had lacked. Once finished, he went back to the cockpit and observed hyperspace as it flew by.

He could feel the darkness, the power, crackling beneath his skin. He had never felt anything like it as a Jedi…how blind they were! He felt his strength return, his wounds begin to heal, using the Darkness inside him. This was real power. It filled him like the light never could…and yet, none of the warmth was there, none of the calm tranquillity…ah, what did that matter?

He sighed, leaning back on his chair to wait out the rest of his journey, an uncharacteristic, twisted smile on his face.

* * *

"Qui-Gon?" 

Qui-Gon moved slightly, shifting himself into a kneeling position. His muscles burned with the aftereffects of the lightning, and his head was splitting in pain from Xanatos' torture. The soft call came again, and he opened his eyes. Tholme was the one calling him from the Force cage. "Qui-Gon, my friend – you must get us out of here."

Qui-Gon nodded and pushed himself up until he was standing, his mind still trying to make sense of what had been happening. He had been caught, by Xanatos…found Obi-Wan…been tortured…his eyes fell on the crushed corpse of Xanatos, and suddenly, everything came back in startling clarity.

_Oh Force._

Obi-Wan had killed Xanatos…Qui-Gon had seen the darkness in his eyes…and then, his Padawan had turned on _him_…

Qui-Gon stopped, suddenly numb. He could hear Tholme's voice from far away, the words seeming to blend together. "Qui-Gon, please…you have to get us out, our lightsabers can't cut through the shield. Can you escape and reach the controls?"

Wordlessly, Qui-Gon half-heartedly raised a hand and pulled his lightsaber to him, using it to gracefully cut through the chain that bound him. He walked over to the Force-cage controls and released Tholme and Quinlan, both of who murmured thanks, watching him closely. He turned away, pausing only to pick up Obi-Wan's Jedi lightsaber, and began the slow trek back through he passages to the ship. Tholme and his Padawan followed silently, until they passed the staircase, where Qui-Gon paused and looked up for a moment. Working out what was up there, Quinlan put a hand on his Master's arm to still him.

"Masters, wait," he said quietly. Qui-Gon turned to him, eyes unreadable and face emotionless. Quinlan looked between them for a moment, before turning up the staircase. He went a few steps up, out of the sight of the other Jedi, and didn't hear anything from either of them – no questions or commands, so he continued heading up, coming out in the small chamber.

It was bare; but one wall was split with a sharp-edged crack, showing another room – a cell – beyond. This must have been Obi-Wan's cell. A soft movement behind him told him that the Masters had followed him up.

Quinlan hesitated – he wanted to do this, felt he had to, but didn't know what would happen – before slowly placing a hand on the black stone of Obi-Wan's cell.

_Pain_. It was everywhere, through him, burning him, it wouldn't stop, he was going to die, he was screaming…

_Darkness_. It consumed him, tormented him, crept into him, there was no light, no peace, it was in his dreams, his life…

_Torture_. Xanatos was laughing, he was bleeding, tormented, suffering…

_Depression_. He was alone, lost, dying, no one cared, no one was coming…

Tholme and Qui-Gon watched, shocked, as Quinlan almost immediately screamed and fell to his knees, one hand on the wall, the other clutching his head. Thlome cried out and pulled his Padawan's hand from the wall, pulling Quinlan to him as the apprentice quietened, tears running unchecked down his face from tightly closed eyes.

"Padawan! What was it, what did you see?"

Qui-Gon was struck by how like a child Quinlan looked, as the weeping Padawan looked past Tholme and directly at him. "He…he was tortured," Quinlan whispered brokenly. Qui-Gon felt his breath catch as Quinlan composed himself a little and continued. "Xanatos tortured him. I could feel it…it was horrible. He couldn't reach the light…and the Darkness tormented him…he began to loose hope." Quinlan paused, trying to shake off the memory. "I felt…I saw only quick flashes, all disjointed…it was terrible. We have no idea what he endured."

"I'm so sorry, Qui-Gon," Tholme said quietly as he helped Quinlan stand. Qui-Gon had paled significantly, his mind in the past. Obi-Wan…there had been an instant, only a few months ago, where his Padawan had laughed so hard he had nearly cried. The joke was long gone, but the memory was there. To think that he had been so broken by Xanatos…to think he had _turned_…

Qui-Gon's morbid and numb thoughts stayed with him as they walked back through the dark passages to the courtyard. Quinlan walked supported by Tholme, still not himself after his psychometric reading. When they got back to their ship, he excused himself to go and lie down. Tholme looked after him worriedly, before turning towards his broken friend. Qui-Gon had not spoken since Obi-Wan had left, and was automatically running system checks, preparing the ship for take off. He wasn't focused on his task, and his eyes were glassy as the hands working instinctively.

He sensed Tholme watching. "He's gone."

Obi-Wan's presence, dark or light, was no longer on this planet. He had gone, presumably in Xanatos' ship, to…Force knows where…

Tholme took over the system checks. "We'll head back to Coruscant."

Qui-Gon stood and walked to his cabin without comment. Once inside, and alone, he sat on the bed staring at Obi-Wan's lightsaber hilt. He felt completely numb. How had this happened? Obi-Wan – using the Dark Side? It wasn't possible, Obi-Wan had never shown signs…Xanatos had, though Qui-Gon had been too blind to see it. This had happened _twice_ to him. Twice, an apprentice had turned to the Darkness. Was it him? Did he turn them? No, surely not – Xanatos had shown dark signs, been heading there…but Obi-Wan never had.

It must have been what Obi-Wan was put through. He, Qui-Gon, had been too late to save Obi-Wan from the predatory Darkness like he should have. Qui-Gon's hand tightened on the lightsaber hilt of his apprentice. No matter what anyone said, Obi-Wan _was_ still his apprentice. He couldn't accept that Obi-Wan had fully turned; surely there was some way he could come back…there had to be…

Something within gave way, and Qui-Gon Jinn wept silently, alone with his memories and his tears.

* * *

Yes, Obi-Wan has turned. Can he be saved? You'll have to read on if you want the answer to that, my dears... 

Reviews are always appreciated, as always.


	15. The Temple and Advice

Chapter fifteen. Thanks for all the continued support for this story! It brightens my day (and takes my mind off kriffing exams).

* * *

Qui-Gon shifted slightly. He had never liked being in front of the Council, and now was no exception. He knew they could sense his anxiety, his fear, and his guilt, yet not one Council Member called him on it, and for that he was thankful. He looked up from the patterned floor to Yoda, who was considering him with a fixed stare, his head tilted slightly to one side.

"To speak with Master Windu and myself alone, you wish?"

"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon said respectfully. He had seen the glances many of the Council had shared with one another when he had first made the request, fully aware that they must be curious, and maybe even a little perplexed. He kept his gaze on Yoda, who stared back unblinkingly. Qui-Gon could tell from Yoda's seemingly emotionless expression that the Jedi GrandMaster was assessing him carefully.

Yoda shared a momentary glance with Mace Windu before speaking again. "Agree to this, we do, Master Qui-Gon. Adjourn, the Council will."

Qui-Gon bowed deeply as the other Masters rose silently and departed, leaving the three Jedi alone. Yoda looked between Mace and Qui-Gon, his ears twitching slightly. "To my meditation chamber, we will go."

He stood, hobbling out of the room with Mace and Qui-Gon walking behind him. Mace threw a sidelong look to his friend, but Qui-Gon didn't meet his gaze, lost in thought and silent. Mace frowned slightly, looking ahead again. Something was very wrong. What was it? What had they found on Drommund Kaas? Obi-Wan certainly _wasn't_ here…_could he have died?_

There had been a respectful, if brief message from Qui-Gon on his return journey, requesting a meeting with the Council as soon as he landed. Qui-Gon had been composed during the transmission, yet he, Mace, – and Yoda too, he was willing to bet – could see something was going on under the calm exterior. Something didn't feel right about it. When the ship had landed, Qui-Gon had come almost straight to them, not ten minutes ago.

"Master Qui-Gon, see, I did not, Master Tholme or Quinlan with you," Yoda said quietly as the three Jedi Masters neared his meditation chamber. "Why so?"

Qui-Gon was silent for a moment as they continued walking. "Quinlan is resting; Tholme is with him, I believe…Tholme was considering taking Quinlan to a Mind-Healer, and so did not accompany me. "

Mace faltered slightly in his step. _A Mind-Healer?_ "What? Qui-Gon – what happened?"

"Tell us he will," said Yoda, who hadn't faltered at all. "In time, Master Mace." The door next to him slid open with a little Force-persuasion on his part, and he entered, Mace and Qui-Gon close behind. Jumping easily and lightly onto one of the few round cushioned platforms of the room in a display of rarely seen athleticism, Yoda sat and peered up at the two human Jedi as they, too, sat down.

"I am sorry to cause this inconvenience," said Qui-Gon after a moment. "I could not bring myself to speak in front of the complete Council once I was there."

Silence descended over the small room as Yoda and Mace turned to Qui-Gon, waiting for him to speak again. The Jedi Master in question seemed to be lost in thought, staring unseeingly into the centre of the room. When he finally spoke it was almost a whisper. "We found him."

Mace's eyes widened. "You did? But where…" He paused, watching his friend intently as Qui-Gon closed his eyes in defeat. "Qui-Gon…he's not dead, is he?"

"No… but in a way, I suppose, he is."

"From the beginning, everything you will tell us, Qui-Gon."

After a deep breath, Qui-Gon did so – explaining about the initial mission to Jernosi, the assassin in the night, Obi-Wan giving chase and vanishing. He told them about the droids, tracing them to Kelada and the information gathered from the droid designer, Druss Macavity, sensing darkness in his Padawan's mind, trying to reach him. He paused then, before telling them, hesitatingly, of Drommund Kaas, and what had gone on there. When he mentioned Xanatos, Mace interjected, shocked.

"_Xanatos_?"

Qui-Gon nodded stiffly, but didn't answer.

Yoda shook his head always. "Always clever and manipulative, Xanatos was." He motioned for Qui-Gon to continue. Qui-Gon wasn't sure he wanted to, knowing full well what he was about to revel to these two Masters – his friends. But he kept going with his story, in a low and emotionless voice: telling of being caught and tortured, the sudden appearance of Obi-Wan, who killed Xanatos, attacked Qui-Gon – and fled.

"He's turned?" Mace said in a low, disbelieving voice. Qui-Gon's silence and distant look served as an affirmative answer to his question.

Yoda sighed, his wise eyes sad. "Unfortunate, this is."

Mace could only shake his head. "I'm so sorry, Qui-Gon."

"What should I do?" Qui-Gon asked softly. This was the reason he'd wanted to talk to Yoda and Mace alone – he needed advice from wise friends, not an entire Council who, most likely, had differing views on the matter. He needed _help_.

"Is there anything you _can_ do?" Mace replied gently. "You don't know where he is, nor what he is doing. He may be lost to us."

"I can't accept that, Mace."

"What of your bond?" asked Yoda.

"Unblocked, Master, but unresponsive. I kept thinking I could feel something...on the way back, when in meditation. Some faint sense of the original Obi-Wan, some familiar warmth…" Qui-Gon shook his head. "I don't know if I dreamed it, or it was actually there."

Yoda titled his head to one side in thought. "Think, I do, that you _could_ sense him."

Qui-Gon and Mace were both slightly taken aback. "You do?" said Mace.

"Think, you should, about your situation on Drommund Kaas. Tortured, you were. Call out, in pain, did you?" The diminutive Jedi master scrutinized Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon suddenly felt embarrassed to answer, but he couldn't think why. "Yes, I did. The pain was extreme."

"Carries, sound does. Heard you when imprisoned, I think Obi-Wan did. Came to your aid." Yoda's ears twitched, and his aged eyes watched Qui-Gon as the Jedi Master considered his words.

"You think he…" Qui-Gon couldn't say it. So it _was_ his fault?

Yoda nodded. "Turned to save you, he did. Reached out to what Force he could, he did. In desperation, used the Darkness, he did. Took the chance, the Darkness did – and filled him."

Qui-Gon didn't know what to reply. Was it possible? Had Obi-Wan, tortured, tormented and captive, used the Darkness around him, used what was with him in desperation, to save his Master? Had he reached out to the Darkness because of Qui-Gon's cries? Had he broken that much under torture? Had he even been himself at the end? With a mental shudder, Qui-Gon remembered the haunted and blank look he had seen in Obi-Wan's eyes just before Xanatos had stepped out of the shadows.

"Then why did he run?" It was said more to himself than his two companions, but they both heard. Yoda shifted his weight, digging his hands into the wide sleeves of his Jedi robe.

"If used the Darkness you did, and a friend you attacked, then woke to your actions, stay calm, would you, hmm? Be shocked, you would."

Qui-Gon nodded distractedly, remembering the shock in Obi-Wan's eyes as he realised what he had been doing. The horror, the shock – the disbelief, the _fear_. He had fled on instinct, running from what he had done. Then why had he not come back? And why was there the chilling, impenetrable darkness he could feel in Obi-Wan's mind?

"Think you must, Qui-Gon." Yoda said softly. "The answers you seek, have them, you do. Know Obi-Wan well, you do."

Ten years worth of memories came flooding back to Qui-Gon. Yoda was right - he _knew_ Obi-Wan. If anyone could guess the Senior Padawan's mind, it was him. He took a deep breath, calming himself. To guess this, he would _have_ to be calm, be logical and let the Force help him. If Obi-Wan had realised what he was doing, had realised what it meant, then he would have been horrified at himself…

Which accounted for his running. It would have been instinctual, yes, as the mind struggled to comprehend what had gone on. Obi-Wan would have felt terribly mixed emotions…needed to clear his mind. He would have wanted to get as far away as possible, and, being an apt pilot, would have flown Xanatos' ship away from the planet. Where, Qui-Gon didn't know.

The Darkness had taken him, Qui-Gon could feel that much. Yet Obi-Wan had not completely turned when he fled the torture chamber. If he had, surely he would not have stopped in his torture. He would have been feeling guilty, terribly so, and his emotions would have been tormenting. He would blame himself for everything, for using the Darkness, for Qui-Gon's torture, would fall deeper and deeper into despair…

With a jolt, the answer came to him. Whether it was due to the Force, his own reasoning or information from ten years of friendship and missions, he did not know.

"He doesn't think he can come back."

Yoda and Mace shared a glance. "You think so?" Mace asked, leaning forward and into Qui-Gon's line of sight.

"He was not completely changed when he ran from the room - if he had been, there is little doubt he would have stopped his attack. Yet he is now. Alone, his thoughts would have been of darkness, guilt, regret – he would have been susceptible to dark thoughts and emotions. If he thought he could not come back, thought that he was _already_ Dark, then he would have turned away, admitted it to himself and embraced what he thought he could not escape."

Mace nodded slowly. "That makes sense. I did not think he would have turned so quickly, though."

Qui-Gon looked at his friend with defeated eyes. "He had gone through…I don't even know the full extent of it. When I found him, he had no life in his eyes; I could see how broken he was. The reason Quinlan may need a Mind-Healer is because of the psychometric reading he did off Obi-Wan's cell."

"It was that bad?" Mace sighed in thought, loosely wrapping his arms around his crossed legs. "Then his mind _would_ have been unbalanced, making the Darkness seem all the more comforting and increasing his despair over his actions." He flicked his gaze to Qui-Gon, hesitation clear in his dark eyes. "If he's turned, then that makes him a Dark Jedi."

He did not have to elaborate. Qui-Gon immediately shot a hard stare at him. "Mace, he's not a threat! He does not need to be tracked and…" he trailed off. Although the general rule was to tray and capture Dark Jedi, most, if not all, Dark Side practitioners preferred to fight to the death rather than be captured.

"Forget, you should not, the circumstances of this, Master Windu," Yoda said into the silence and interrupting the silent battle of wills that was going on before him. "Think, I do, he is not fully lost to us yet."

Qui-Gon felt optimism rise within him. "You mean there is still hope for him?"

"Turned in compassion, he did. Turned to save. Sacrificed himself – a Light Side action, even if not recognised it is. Felt, you said, traces of the Light, in his mind."

"I did, Master."

"Find him you should, Qui-Gon. Help him." Yoda shifted his gaze of Mace. "Informed the Council will have to be, Master Windu. To you, I leave that task."

Mace stood, inclining his head respectfully. "I'll call the Council now, to reconvene." To Qui-Gon, he quietly added, "If there is any chance, Qui-Gon, get him back."

As the door slid closed, Qui-Gon turned back to Yoda to find the Jedi GrandMaster already looking at him. "Know where he is, you do not?"

"No, Master. He has blocked our bond, and there is only the darkness when I concentrate deeply. He took Xanatos' ship – I can see not other explanation, as he did not take ours yet his presence was gone from the planet when Master Tholme, Quinlan and I emerged from the ruins."

"Hmm." The small Jedi closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "Guide us, the Force will. Meditate I will on this, Master Qui-Gon."

Taking it as his cue to leave, Qui-Gon stood, bowing deeply before Yoda. "My thanks, Master Yoda." He left, pausing only to close the door to the mediation chamber, and returned to his own quarters – those he shared with Obi-Wan.

Upon entering, Qui-Gon felt both relief to be home, or as close to a permanent home as a Jedi got, and sadness that it was only him stepping over the threshold. The common area was clean, just the way it had been left before the Jernosi assignment, a lone datapad – one of Obi-Wan's – sitting on the table. Qui-Gon palmed on the lights for the small apartment, as his gaze was drawn out the window. Coruscant was always a hive of activity, and for a moment he watched the speeders of the city flying past, before settling himself down before the window to attempt meditation; Yoda's words echoing in his mind.

"_Think, I do, he is not fully lost to us yet."_

That made two of them, at least.

* * *

So, there _is_ a chance Obi-Wan can be saved. But will they get to him in time?


	16. Ambush and Mercenaries

Another day, another chapter!

My most humble thanks to all those who are keeping up with this story and for all your wonderful comments!

Disclaimer: Nope. Zak and Jay are mine, though.

* * *

"What do you think?" He asked.

She shrugged. "Me? I think we should follow him."

Zak raised the flask to his lips, taking another small sip. The liquor that was brewed here on Korriban was harsh on first try; a miner's alcohol; but then one developed a taste for it, and it became sharply refreshing…provided it was taken in moderation – and tipsy jobs often ended in disaster. Zak had no want to repeat the fiasco on Taanas; Jay had not let him live that down for months after.

Speaking of Jay, she was watching him closely, waiting for his reply. She was an Iridonian, a Zabrak, a _whatever_, they were the kriffing same. Black hair tied back, her Iridonian horns poking through, and a dark, fawn-coloured skin. Her orange eyes flashed at him in impatience.

"Well?"

Zak sighed. "Alright, we follow him."

Zak was a Firrerreon. He had dark eyes and hair, and his gold skin was covered in a fine crosshatching of bright silver scars – memories from past days, many when he didn't have a clue what he was doing. He had learnt since then, and learnt much.

He stood, moving to join her in the shadows at the edge of the roof. Together they watched their quarry, a cloaked figure, as he/she/it walked along the alleyway, towards the industrial sector. The hood, and the darkness of the alleyway itself, concealed their identity, but it was clear they were alone, and new to the planet.

Jay's hand was wrapped around her blaster; her trigger finger was itching. This guy appeared to be an easy mark. Alone, hooded and moving slowly, occasional glances to either side? New, alone, no idea who was watching. Perfect. Hopefully he had a few credits on him. She exchanged a grin with Zak. This would be fun.

* * *

Zak and Jay had met three years ago, on the moon called Nar Shaddaa, above the planet of Nar Hutta. The social underworld was normal society here, where mercenaries and bounty hunters walked the streets and crime was a career. Everyone here was involved in some kind of criminal activity, or was a refugee – or simply didn't want to be found, lost in the shadows. No matter where you came from, Nar Shaddaa was the place you could loose yourself. Also known as the Smuggler's Moon, it was similar to Coruscant – except it seemed to be covered in _only_ the lower levels of Coruscant…pollution, decaying buildings, unsavoury people and businesses, crime.

Zak had come to the 'Vertical City' as a mercenary, and had quickly found easy contracts and a place where he felt at home. If Zak wasn't conning, cheating or working a contract, then he was in one of the numerous dirty cantinas, playing Pazzak or Sabacc or drinking with amateur bounty hunters and roughing them up for fun. It was his kind of place, and he had gained a slight reputation for being a reliable assassin. Not a big one, mind you – that sort of notice was, for a freelancer who was not associated with the Exchange or the Hutts or whatever, was dangerous – it marked you as competition.

Clients who knew what they wanted sought him out, but before long one job – involving a theft and possible assassination – brought him up against a complex security system, one that was becoming increasingly more common. So Zak had enlisted the help of Jay, who was a known slicer. For a fee, she had agreed to help him, and, sure enough, had hacked easily through the system and helped complete his job. She was fun, she was good at her what she did, and she was trustworthy (or as trustworthy as one in their line of work could be). Over a celebratory drink, brought with the recently-earned credits, the prospect of a partnership had been brought up.

For the years since, they had worked as a team – unheard of in many mercenary circles – and had been responsible for many upsets right through the Republic. None of them had been very big, or very messy, and they had easily left no trace, moving on and making credits however they wished: conning, stealing, assassinations…

Until the call they had received four months ago.

Their client was an Iridonian, like Jay, and he called them on an untraceable frequency – Jay thought she _could_ trace it but there were so many hidden signals and confusing patterns that she said it ended nowhere. He wore a hooded cloak, and spoke in a soft, harsh voice, informing them that he wished the current Senator of Naboo to meet an untimely end. He would pay them well, more than they would have asked, and he called himself _Lord Maul_.

Zak and Jay had taken the contract, and travelled to Coruscant on the next transport. Here they had watched their mark carefully, all the while being contacted and instructed by their client. In the end, it had been decided that it would be a night break-in, a clean killing, and gone from the planet before the sun rose.

Getting in had been no problem. Sitting in their small, cloaked and camouflaged speeder in the shadows next to the Senator's window, Jay had hooked her datapad into the Republica 500 mainframe, hacking through the security system with ease, bypassing the clever system tricks the technicians had installed and removing any and all active droids from the immediate area. The Senator had no idea what was coming.

Zak had carefully cut the glass of the window and removed a piece to get in through, before making his way silently to the bed and putting a blaster bolt through the Senator's heart. Simple and effective. The blaster had a modified silencer on it – no one heard anything at all. By the time the body was discovered and the alarm raised, Zak and Jay were gone with their credits, laughing about a job well done.

But something had gone wrong. They had been traced.

Three weeks ago, Jedi had come to Nar Shaddaa, looking for _them_. They wanted to talk to them about a murder…finding this out from various contacts without having to see the Jedi, Zak and Jay had left immediately, taking the first transport they found (they didn't find out where it was going until they were halfway to Cato Nemoidia). Since then they had continued to move around, never staying long on one planet, still pulling small cons and contract killings. Using secure communication networks, there had been news from colleagues and contacts – the Jedi were still looking for them.

Jay had been sure she had left no traceable signs in her hacking, and Zak knew he had been wearing gloves and left no traces – even the blaster had been taken apart and reassembled into others, the pieces mixed up, and the speeder had been taken with them and hidden on the third or fourth planet they fled to, Dathomir. All ends had been tied up…so how did the Jedi know it was them? It didn't matter now. What mattered was staying one step ahead of those Temple-rats and, of course, having fun conning and making credits along the way.

* * *

Jay slipped over the edge of the roof, landing lightly on a pile of junk as a platform she could use to reach the ground. She grinned up at Zak, who tucked the flask into a pocket and crouched down, still on the rooftop.

"What'll we do, Jay? Con, rob, fight, kill? I'm in the mood for a little thieving, I think."

She twisted her face in thought. "Yeah, don't know if I want much blood on my hands tonight."

The figure ahead of them had not faltered in their step. Zak watched them for a moment. "I'll go along the roof and jump down in front. You come from the back." He watched Jay fiddle with her wrist-launcher. "Shall we say no blasters, no knives and none of _that_?"

"Unarmed? You're on." She swiftly completed her descent to the ground and began to hastily creep forward in the shadows, towards the travelling quarry. Above her, Zak ran lightly along the roof of the warehouse that formed one wall of the alley, soon overtaking the cloaked figure. He sat in wait as their victim approached, before jumping lightly down into their path.

"Evening. Bit late to be out, isn't it?"

The figure froze, the hood still low. Zak grinned evilly, letting the shock settle in. Jay, appearing close, laughed from behind the victim, who spun at the sudden noise. She waved cheekily at him and placed one hand on her hip. "Stand and deliver."

Zak had to stifle a laugh at that – such an old, _classic_ line! Yet Jay loved to use it, should the circumstances allow her to, as these did.

Between them, their victim was slowly backing up against the wall, still looking at the both of them from under his hood. Zak had a flash of doubt. This didn't feel right.

Jay didn't seem to notice, stalking forward to intimation range. She fiddled with her custom wrist launcher but did not prime it, remembering the deal. Still the simple gesture was enough to put the idea in the mind of a victim, as a warning. "Hand over all the credits you got."

"I have none, Iridonian." The voice was calm and cold, unnervingly so. A flicker of surprise, quickly replaced by irritation, crossed Jay's face. She wasn't used to victims talking back to her, especially if they weren't pleading pitifully for their lives or something like that. Scowling, she lashed out with one hand and pushed the hood back from the figure's face.

Their victim was revealed – a young human man, in his early twenties, with short hair. He looked normal enough, but in his blue-grey eyes there was something neither Jay nor Zak could place – an empty, haunted look, and darkness in their depths. Jay instinctively stepped back, as he looked calmly between them. "Uh, Zak?"

The young man's eyes narrowed slightly, as he looked directly at Zak. "Zak?" he said, in the same quiet yet dangerous voice. "You're a Firrerreon. Aren't names sacred to you?"

Zak rolled his eyes in a show of arrogance. "Kriffing hell, do I look like I care?"

The young man seemed to consider this. "Perhaps not. And perhaps you do not care for this life."

Zak could feel the beginnings of a cold sweat – something he had not felt in a long time. "What the _kriff_ you mean by that?"

He didn't answer, just reached into his cloak and brought out a metal cylinder, which he held lightly in one hand. Both mercenaries looked at it warily.

Jay's eyes narrowed in anger and realisation as she took a step back. "You a Jedi?"

He smiled, a twisted smile that sent a shiver down Jay's spine. "Oh, no. _Much_ worse."

Zak was suddenly aware of a subtle change in the air, as if raw power was suddenly around him. Their victim…or were they his…took a step forward menacingly. He flicked the hand that wasn't holding the lightsaber at Jay, and she flew back, striking hard into a pile of junk of some description. There she lay unmoving, blood running down one side of her face.

Zak called to her, but she did not respond.

He turned to face the victim-turned-attacker. The young man, with an unemotional face, calmly thumbed on the weapon in his hand. A scarlet blade lit the alleyway in blood-like light. "Your scars become silver against gold, I see," he said lazily, swinging the lightsaber in one hand. "Shall I add to yours, then?"

He sprang forward with a speed that shocked the Firrerreon. It was pure luck that Zak managed to jump back and narrowly avoid the blade – he could feel its heat as it passed him by. Stumbling, he heard his attacker laughing. "Scare you, did I?"

This kid was messed in the head. Zak wasn't sure whether he should fight, run away, or try to get to Jay. His attacker was watching him. Zak decided to fight – if he could just concuss this guy, they could escape, get away from here…what the hell _was_ he, anyway? Jedi didn't act like this, they were all peace and diplomacy...not all attack and aggression.

He drew his own vibroblade, and swung it forward. The young man parried it easily with the lightsaber, one-handily. Slashing with a two-handed grip for more strength, Zak was shocked when it was, once again, parried with the greatest of ease. He felt himself lifted from the ground, but by nothing.

Panicking now, Zak dropped his vibroblade and clutched at his chest, which was beginning to tighten - not from panic or anxiety, but _actually_ tightening. He could feel it. The young man was lifting him, it had to be – Jedi – the Force – and he was laughing, as he closed his hand on his outstretched arm. Zak was in horrible pain, he couldn't breathe, he was asphyxiating…he could feel the strain not only on his lungs, but on his bones, his body…_he was being crushed_…

The young man was still laughing as everything went black.

* * *

Jay opened her eyes and could hear footsteps, moving away, fading into the night. It wouldn't be Zak…where the hell _was_ Zak? She rolled over painfully, and raised herself up slightly. Zak lay against the far wall, his gold skin pale, and his body unmoving. Jay crawled over to him. He was alive, breathing deeply and slowly, with a strong if slightly erratic pulse, but completely unconscious. And there was something else. She couldn't tell how, but Jay knew this was more than just a fight concussion. Zak looked like he had been heavily drugged, or was comatose, or _something_.

She looked up, along the now deserted alleyway. That bastard. That _kriffing_ bastard.

He would pay.

* * *

Whoops - Obi-Wan's messed with mercs! And I know Palpatine became Senator of Naboo way before this and under different circumstances, but I thought it would be fun to add in passing - I just like the fact it semi-connects this story to the move cannon! Anway, review please!


	17. Answers and Falcons

Here's chapter seventeen... and I want to say a big, big thank you to all my reviewers - over 100 reviews, guys! I'm amazed and so happy.

Disclaimer: Nope, not yet...although it is Christmas soon and I'm expecting a call from Lucas as a present, giving me everything...hey, I'm allowed to dream, right?

* * *

It was getting late - the Coruscanti sun was dipping beneath the metal horizon of skyscrapers. Qui-Gon, standing at the window of his (and Obi-Wan's) quarters at the Jedi Temple, watched it vanish from sight. The warm glow faded from the room and night began to descend. Qui-Gon sighed, turning away from it, back towards the dark and empty common room of the apartment. He needed to meditate, he knew, but here he found it hard to gather himself. 

Instead, he left the apartment, making his way through the lesser-used passages of the Temple, heading towards the one of the many chambers and grottos that made up the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Here he felt he could maybe find the answers that eluded him – the most important thereof was the question of _where_ – where, in the Republic, or more widely the universe, was Obi-Wan?

It was just after the time of the evening meal, and as a result the corridors were almost deserted, for which Qui-Gon was thankful. He saw few Jedi – Knights, Padawans or Younglings – on his way, and was also pleased to find the gardens largely deserted. Bypassing the few sentients who were already deep in meditation, Qui-Gon made his way to a shallow grove he used with Obi-Wan whenever they both wished to meditate together. Passing one of the trees, he faltered slightly in his step.

The tree itself was nothing out of the ordinary. It had wide, sweeping branches, close to the ground – the lowest of which were wide enough to sit on comfortably. When he was younger, before and during the years of his apprenticeship, Obi-Wan used to meditate on the lower branches, above the ground. Qui-Gon had searched him out on many occasions and knew it was Obi-Wan's place. Everyone had a certain location they preferred for meditation even if they were not willing to admit it – and Obi-Wan still used it whenever they were back at the Temple and he was meditating alone.

On instinct, Qui-Gon moved aside the thin branches and leapt lightly up onto Obi-Wan's branch. He lowered himself into the cross-legged meditation position, leaning against the trunk. Here he could see most of the garden, but at the same time was afforded slight privacy from the leaves and thinner branches. He could see the appeal of such a place. It had the feeling of being slightly removed from the garden, from the Temple, even, and because of it had an easy sense of peace.

Qui-Gon sighed, relaxing his body and calming his mind. He closed his eyes, reaching out to the Force, and to his Force-link with Obi-Wan.

Even through Obi-Wan's strong mental shields, Qui-Gon could feel the darkness in his mind; twisted and tormenting, powerful and relentless. He let himself drop deeper into the flow of the Force, concentrating, willing himself to find it…_there!_ Just in brief moments, he could feel the edge of something different to the harsh darkness. It was a faint flicker of warmth – of light – like the edge of a warm breeze, momentary and slight. Occasionally it was like a bolt of lightening seen from far away – bright and sudden, then gone.

It gave Qui-Gon hope. There _was_ still some light in Obi-Wan, still some remnant of who he used to be. He could be brought back. Even if the young man (who Qui-Gon knew from experience could be _incredibly_ stubborn) refused to believe it, the light _was_ still there. It had not deserted him.

Lost deep in meditation, Qui-Gon felt the Force pulse and change, fluctuate – and suddenly images came to him, unbidden. He could see old statues leading up to a rocky landscape, like a mountainside plateau, a collection of fallen, symbolically marked spires of stone adorning the centre. There were entrances…old archways of some kind almost like the openings of tombs…but they were old, very old, and damaged. A path led up from the plateau, towards…what? As Qui-Gon wondered where it led, the vision changed. He could see an old stone door, cracked and marked with age, adorned with symbols…

The images faded, and Qui-Gon opened his eyes. He did not get visions often, but always felt unnerved after he received one. But what – no, _where_ – had he seen? He knew he would recognise any of the symbols if he saw them again, but did not recognise them at first sight.

The Force had been answering his question, he was sure. If he could recognise what he had seen, know where it was, then he would know _where Obi-Wan was_. Yoda had been right – the Force had held the answers.

Qui-Gon slid off the branch and down to the ground – he had to go to the Archives, to find out and interpret his vision. There would be no point in searching for planets with ruins, or statues or something like that – most, if not all, planets had some kind of ruins or ancient history. There had to be a way to narrow the field and find what he was looking for easily. If he could find the symbols, or similar architecture, or something, anything that would link to his vision…

There were still people in Temple Archives, even at the somewhat lateness of the hour. Qui-Gon ignored them, for the most part, heading towards one of the public dataports to scan the Archive database. Sitting over the keypad, Qui-Gon paused.

What the Force was he meant to look for?

Something at the back of his mind was irritating him – what had he forgotten? Remembering the vague images of the vision, Qui-Gon knew there was something there he was meant to have recognised. What was it? It definitely wasn't the symbols, or the stonework, of that Qui-Gon was sure.

It came to him suddenly, a clear image from his vision. A stone statue, about the height of a Coruscanti skyscraper – in the shape of a humanoid being, hands crossed over the chest and the head bowed. Qui-Gon knew he should recognise it, knew he had seen it long ago somewhere.

Abruptly, Qui-Gon rose from the untouched dataport, and headed back the way he had come, out into the halls, towards Yoda's chambers. Yoda would be able to help him; Yoda could help anyone, and surely he would recognise the statues if Qui-Gon described them to him, or at least provide some insight.

When he reached Yoda's door, he knocked respectfully, but there was no answer. About to knock again, Qui-Gon was surprised at the sound a familiar voice behind him.

"Looking for me, you were, Master Qui-Gon?"

"Yes, Master Yoda," Qui-Gon replied respectfully. "The Force granted me a vision – I think it was showing me where Obi-Wan is – but I cannot work out where it is."

The diminutive Jedi GrandMaster looked up at him quizzically. "Tell me, you shall, Master Qui-Gon." He motioned to his quarters, opening the door, and Qui-Gon followed him inside.

He sat at Yoda's gesture and told him what he had seen – the landscape, the stone tomb entrances, the door – and watched Yoda's ears twitch when he described the statues. "I feel I should recognise the statues, Master, but I do not."

"Paid more attention in history when a Youngling, you should have,"

History? Qui-Gon tried to think back. What sort of things had they learnt? The history of the Republic, of many of the core worlds. The history of the Jedi Order, of course – the old Sith, the wars that went on, the almost total collapse thousands of years ago and the subsequent rebuilding of the Order…and then, a thought came to him. Looking up at Yoda, the small figure nodded.

"Right, you are."

"Korriban." Qui-Gon tried to bring out from the past all he could remember of the planet. Korriban was the old Sith homeworld. The massive statues were at the Valley of the Dark Lords, where many of the ancient and important Sith Lords were entombed. The fallen spires of stone that used to stand there had a ceremonial importance of some kind, and the door was to the old Sith academy. Had Obi-Wan really gone there, of all places?

The Sith had been extinct for nearly a millennia, but the planet was still rife with the darkness of its past. Other than the Sith, Korriban was a mining planet. Especially after the academy had fallen, millennia ago - the small society of Dreshdae, the closest town to the academy, had turned to mining as a commercial prospect. It was a small operation, and there was hardly anyone there anymore.

Yoda shifted, bringing Qui-Gon back to the present. "Going to Korriban already, Master Gallia and her Padawan are. Travel with them you should."

Qui-Gon hid his surprise. "If I may ask, Master Yoda, what is their mission?"

"Tracking two bounty hunters, they are, responsible for the murder of the late Senator of Naboo. Senator Palpatine's predecessor. Traced to Korriban they have been."

Qui-Gon nodded. He had heard about the Senator's murder – after all, who hadn't – and the appointment of a new Senator, Palpatine, in his stead. Adi and Siri would be a good team to send to apprehend them, and privately Qui-Gon would welcome what help they could give him and their friendship – Adi was a close friend of his, and they had worked with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan before, though not for years. The two Padawans had initially been at odds with one another (part of the reason being their ages – Obi-Wan had been fifteen and Siri, thirteen) but had become closer friends.

"Travel you will, on the _Falcon_. Meet with them tomorrow you shall – but for now, sleep, you should."

* * *

The _Millennium Falcon_ was an older ship, at least thirty years old already – a modified Corellian Engineering Corporation light freighter. It wasn't really known how it had come to be in the possession of the Jedi Order, but was used on missions of importance due to its Class 0.5 hyperdrive, and so was one of the fastest ships in the galaxy. To get to Korriban with the _Falcon_ would take two days – with a Class 1 hyperdrive, as the _Theta_-class T-2c shuttle had, it would have taken four. 

Qui-Gon watched it impartially. He had heard about the ship, but had never travelled on it himself – usually more than one team would take it due to the size. A call behind him made Qui-Gon turn away from the _Falcon_ to welcome those who had just walked into the hangar.

Adi Gallia waved to him as she approached. Adi was a human, a few years younger than Qui-Gon, and a close friend of his. She wore a Tholoth headdress, reminiscent of her heritage, and had striking blue eyes that could pierce with ice and sparkle with warmth. A step behind her walked Siri Tachi, her Senior Padawan of just over eight years. Siri was a fiery and determined young woman, who had blonde hair and blue eyes. She had matured over the years from an impatient and headstrong girl into a calm and relaxed Senior Padawan of the Jedi Order. Both Adi and Siri had worked alongside Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan before, and the experience had always been both instructive – and fun.

After greeting one another, and a moment of respectful farewell to Yoda, who had come down to the hanger, the three Jedi boarded the _Millennium Falcon_ and quickly set the ship into pre-flight checks. Adi was regarded as one of the best pilots in the Order, flying under the call-sign _Shooting Star_, and took the pilot's seat without a moment of hesitation. Siri slipped into the co-pilot seat without a word; evidently it was a ritual the two of them had been through numerous times.

Qui-Gon removed himself from the small cockpit during the pre-flight and hyperspace preparation, sitting instead in the common area behind it and relaxing against one of the acceleration couches. There was no point in trying to meditate – meditation always ended in memory and besides, it was difficult during the entrance of hyperspace. Instead he simply emptied his mind and relaxed.

The sound of movement, minutes later, made him open his eyes to see Siri and Adi, the ship safely in hyperspace and en route to Korriban, returning from the cockpit to sit nearby.

"Who are the mercenaries?" Qui-Gon asked, by way of making conversation.

"The Council told you, I take it? They're called Jay and Zak – we don't know last names; no one seems to have them on Nar Shaddaa. Jay is an Iridonian, female, technical mastermind. Zak is a male Firrerreon, skilled at assassination and general untrustworthiness." Adi shifted slightly, resting one arm on the top of her seat. "They've been on the run for months."

"And they're on Korriban?"

Adi nodded. As she did so, it occurred to Qui-Gon that neither had asked him why he was with them, on a mission that was _theirs_, not his. He expected, as they had also not brought up his solo presence, that the Council – or more likely Yoda and Mace – had briefed them on the current situation. As he considered this, he could see Adi watching him closely.

"The Council told us what happened." Adi looked him straight in the eye as he met her look. "Qui-Gon, is it true? Has he turned?" she asked quietly.

He returned her gaze silently for a moment. "I don't know, Adi. His actions on Dromund Kaas were dark, true, but I don't think he's gone over completely. Master Yoda thinks the same."

Next to Adi, Siri dropped her eyes. "So we can get him back?" Her voice was low and void of emotion. Qui-Gon knew only a little of what had happened between her and Obi-Wan a few years ago, and knew she cared about him. She was evidently trying to come to terms with the possibility that her friend _might_ have turned.

"We can try. You know what he's like – I think what may have happened is that he has convinced himself that he _cannot_ return to the Light. He _thinks_ he has gone over to the Dark Side, and so it has filled him. When he realised what he was doing, on Dromund Kaas… he panicked. He had been broken and tormented for too long, and so lost control over himself and his emotions – he ran, fled to Xanatos' ship, escaped what he had done. Alone, filled with grief and guilt over his actions, he thought he was already dark, and so embraced what he thought he could not escape from."

"This is what you think has happened?" Adi asked.

"It is. I know his mind."

Silence descended in the small cabin as hyperspace flew past, half visible through the cockpit window in the next room.

"We'll land in Dreshdae," said Adi, somewhat spontaneously. "It's the biggest and main settlement, a mining city…and the ruins of the old Sith academy, and the Valley of the Dark Lords, are close by. It's also the place where Jay and Zak were supposedly reported to be."

"I would welcome any help you may be able to give," Qui-Gon said in reply, knowing now that they also knew of his vision. "Although I know your duty lies to your mission."

Adi shared a glance with Siri. "Qui-Gon, I think it will be the other way around. If we come across Zak or Jay, then that's well and good. But I _think_ Yoda sent us to help you _primarily_, under the guise of our mission. Zak and Jay can run, but they will be caught eventually – Obi-Wan needs our help _now_."

Qui-Gon nodded, thankful for her words. Korriban was two days away, but even that felt too long. Every second, they were loosing Obi-Wan.

Every second, Obi-Wan was loosing more of himself.

* * *

By the way, the using of the _Falcon_ isn't actually very AU or anything. According to Wookiepedia (which I trust), it is rumoured that the Jedi used the _Millennium Falcon_ around this time secretly - after all, its first appearence was apparently in 60BBY - 60 years Before the Battle of Yavin in Episode Four, way before Lando, or Han, got their hands on it. Apparently it flew in the Clone Wars, too...and I know it's briefly seen in Episode Three. 

Hope that was enough to tide you over...it's gonna get exiting now...


	18. Who and Where

Aha! No exams, no university...summer holidays! (I live in the southern hemisphere; in New Zealand. That also may explain some of my spelling) This means that udpdates will hopefully be quicker than normal...or not, if can't beat the game _Star Wars: Obi-Wan_ on Xbox. Stupid droids...

Thanks to all my reviewers - Elfpen, my dear, this one's for you!

* * *

The young man had vanished after the attack that night. Jay had dragged Zak (with some trouble) back to their current hideout, tried in vain to wake him or evoke a response – _any_ sort of response – but had no luck. Zak was…comatose? Knocked out? Dead? Unconscious? Deeply asleep? Jay had no idea. That young man – that _monster_ – had done something to him, whatever it was, and now she was on her own to deal with him. She could handle it…she hoped. 

After sleeping for a time herself, and patching up the bruises and light injuries sustained in the fight, Jay decided to hit the miner cantinas in Dreshdae looking for information. She was looking for any rumours, any strange stories that were being told. Had anyone else been attacked, or seen this stranger?

Jay endured the unwanted attentions of some of the male barroom patrons for want of answers. She heard long and complicated stories of bravery designed to impress her, and heard more sleazy compliments than she cared to think about. But no one had seen a mysterious cloaked stranger of any significance – after all, many strangers came here for many reasons. None of late had done anything to be worthy of remembrance.

Slipping out from the company of a few large, drunk miners of a species that she might have recognised if they were cleaner, Jay moved towards the exit. This was the third cantina she'd been in, and the second night of her search. Had this guy just vanished? Was he even planet-side anymore?

"Nah, he was going into the ruins."

Jay paused. What ruins?

"They're deserted, right? So why would someone want to go there?"

"Which ruins?" his friend asked.

The first speaker rolled his eyes. "Kriffin' hell, don't you know, mate?"

Turning, Jay looked over at the speakers. Two men, both human, sitting in the shadowy corner, almost untouched drinks before them. They were talking about the ruins of an ancient Sith Academy that was near one of the oldest parts of Dreshdae. She listened to the story.

Millennia ago, the Sith had built their own academy on Korriban. It was a place of teaching – like the old Jedi enclaves and the main Temple on Coruscant, but not in a good way. These apprentices were taught about pain and suffering, how to manipulate those around them and cause misery for their own gains. The Academy had lasted until late into the Jedi Civil War, when it had fallen due to internal conflict. During the time of the New Sith Wars, it opened again, before the Sith faded from history. The ruins, still on Korriban, had been looted several times over and had stood uninhabited for just over a thousand years.

Jay tilted her head slightly to one side as she listened. A renegade Jedi in the old ruins of a Sith Academy? It made sense. Could it be her quarry; or was it just a random miner who was curious? Jay returned her focus to the talking miners. Making up her mind and moving out from the shadows, Jay sat in an unoccupied seat at the table.

"Couldn't help over hearing – this guy you saw going into the ruins? What did he look like?"

"What's it to ya?" asked the second miner; clearly unnerved someone had been listening.

"I think it's my friend, uh, Jack," said Jay, thinking fast. "I'm looking for him – he said he was on Korriban."

"Nah, nah, this guys was like, cloaked and stuff. Real mysterious," the first speaker said in reply. "Didn't see his face, but I'm guessing he was human."

Jay forced herself to smile. "I think it might be him – he, um, likes archaeology and stuff. How long ago was it?"

The first miner rolled his eyes. "'Bout a day or so ago."

Damn. He'd probably been gone.

"But the reason I brought it up," the miner was still saying, "Was that I saw him, like, two hours ago."

"Really? Where?"

The second miner narrowed his eyes. "What you say his name was?"

"Uh, Zak," she said offhandedly, before turning to the first miner again. "Where did you see him?"

The first miner was about to reply, when his friend stopped him with a touch to the arm. "Hang on. You said he was called _Jack_."

Jay was getting impatient. "So?"

"So we not gonna give no one trouble."

Jay bit back her anger, taking a deep breath and instead pulling her blaster out from its custom leg-holster and putting it on the table between her and the miners. "Tell me or I make you less of a man."

The blaster was a KYD-21 blaster pistol, common and recognisable: a favourite among bounty hunter and pirates. Both miners obviously recognised the connotations of such a blaster, because the one who had caught her out went for his own blaster and the other shrank back into the wall.

"You don't want to do that," Jay said lazily, and the miner stopped moving, keeping his hand on the blaster nevertheless. "Tell me what I want to know – it doesn't concern you."

"The…the ruins are out the old sector gate…" murmured the first miner, his eyes on Jay's blaster. "Old sectors' at the spaceport end of main street."

Jay smiled, rising from the table and putting her blaster away. "Thank you, gentlemen," she said serenely. "You've been a lot of help."

She turned and left, stepping out into the warm-ish night. Staring down the road towards the spaceport, she couldn't help smiling. That had been fun, _and_ she had got the information she needed.

Right. If Mr Jedi had been seen going into the ruins a few days prior and then been seen in the city, he probably had some kind of camp there. If she could get back before him, the maybe she could…what? The answer came to her almost instantly, experience and knowledge of assassination providing the answer.

Slipping down a side alley and taking detour from her path, she doubled back to the hideout, checked on Zak (still not responding) and grabbed one of his blaster rifles – a SoroSuub Corporation X-45 sniper rifle. Lightweight and heavily modified by Zak, it was perfect for her purpose: a sniper shot from a rooftop, or the rocks. It allowed her to be on the attack secretly – and be a fair distance from her victim.

Taking the rifle, and making sure (once again) the hideout was secure, she left, running quickly along the alleyways that ran alongside Dreshdae's main road. Slipping out of the old, rusted and semi-open gate, she found herself before a broken mass off rock only after a run of a few hundred meters. There was an opening of a kind in the rocks, but the darkness that lay beneath masked what was inside. This must be the ruins of the Academy.

Glancing up at the rocks on either side of her, Jay found, and quickly climbed to, a place where she was almost hidden but had a clear shot of the entryway. Perfect. Checking the power cells on the rifle once again (full power – good), she sat down to wait, one eye on the Dreshdae gate.

She knew she couldn't really afford to miss this shot, but knew she would. This guy was a kriffing Jedi! He'd sense it or something, but there was always a _chance_ she could make it. Besides, this way she'd be sure of where he was hiding. If she missed or wounded him, then she'd follow him into the ruins – her stealth belt was with her. No target of hers (or Zak's) had ever escaped, and she wasn't about to start now. She'd make this shot, and if she missed, she'd silently track him down. That was the extent of her plan.

The night grew steadily darker. There was a little ambient light coming from Dreshdae, and Jay thought she could see pale light from the ruins; like glowstick light. That was evidence he was here, had been here, or would be coming back. Excellent.

It was at least an hour later when a shadow was approaching from Dreshdae. Jay wasn't sure if it had been her eyes playing tricks on her at first, but was sure now – it was a cloaked figure. Was it him?

About halfway to the ruins, the figure removed their hood, and Jay grinned. It was him, no doubt. She would recognise that calm, twisted smile anywhere. She shifted her weight, keeping him in her sights, and, as an afterthought, flicked on her stealth-belt to keep her presence hidden.

Only a few more meters, and he'd be in her sights.

Gently, so gently, she squeezed the trigger, heart leaping with adrenaline as the plasma bolt flew towards him. At the last second a red lightsaber appeared, and the shot was reflected back at her. She ducked, as it hit the cliff a few meters above her head. Looking over the edge of the rocks, Jay saw him idly swinging the sabre; was he waiting?

The red light vanished as the sabre deactivated. Jay was hardly breathing as he moved to the opening and paused, twisting his head up towards her.

"Coming, mercenary?"

The words echoed slightly. It was a challenge, and one she was not going to back down from. The Jedi, or whatever he was, vanished into the stones. Jay waited for a time before climbing down and pulling her blaster out (it was better for close combat fighting than the rifle was). She crept silently towards the stones; one hand on the activation panel of her stealth belt, checking it was working. She wasn't going to be _that_ easy to find…

Inside, she crept down an old, very old stone corridor. Worn designs marked the walls and there were cracks everywhere. The dim light was coming from a chamber before her, and so she crept quietly to the entrance, keeping herself pressed to the wall. Before her, the wide, circular stone chamber was deserted, a lone glowstick lying in the centre of the floor.

It was deathly silent, too. Jay could hear her own shallow breath and fiercely beating heart. Where was he? There were entrances to passages and corridors off in five differing directions – he could have easily gone down any.

"You wish to kill me?" A voice, familiar and cold, echoed suddenly around the stone walls.

Jay jumped and almost dropped her blaster. Breathing quickly, she tried to find the speaker, but she could see nothing in the deep shadows. Her blaster at the ready, she moved carefully around the corner, back against the wall, and into the deep shadows behind a statue, so worn with age it was almost unrecognisable. The voice came again.

"You think you can?"

Jay's eyes were darting from shadow to shadow, entrance to entrance, searching for something, anything. A ripple of cloak, the soft sound of a booted step. But she could see nothing.

Then, from an entrance to her left, a soft sound. Could it have been him? Casting one last glance around the seemingly deserted chamber, she slipped around the statue and down the corridor. It was like the one she had entered through; grey, worn stone – thousands of years old, she knew. It was damaged from time, but still stable.

Glowsticks hung at regular intervals and on corners, bathing the corridor in a sickly, dim light. How much of this place had this guy explored?

* * *

Obi-Wan watched the chamber, his eyes trying to seek her out. He could feel she was there, but could not see her. He realised quickly with a twisted smile that she had at least some semblance of intelligence and was using a stealth-generator. It would make it harder – but certainly not _impossible_ to find her. 

Casting a glance in the direction of the old dormitories of the academy, the second entrance on his right from where he was standing (against the wall in the corridor directly across from where they had both entered), Obi-Wan called on the Force and created a noise, trying to draw her into the open.

Sure enough, he caught the barest hint of movement, or rippling air, as she moved. Focused now, he could see the tiny discrepancies in the air as she followed the sound to investigate. Soon the displaced air was gone, along with her.

Obi-Wan smirked and turned down his corridor, away from her. Let her run in circles. He knew the layout like the back of his hand. There were many passages and hidden alcoves everywhere, and he had explored them all. This had once been a magnificent place.

Turning into a small path, which led to the library antechamber, Obi-Wan paused in his walking as he felt a presence behind the wall before him. Someone was around the corner, on the other side of the wall.

So, the Iridonian mercenary had managed to turn back, towards him, and come in this far, had she? She must have discovered the hidden path that connected the library antechamber with the northern dormitories – clever. Pity she was going to pay for her luck with her life. Obi-Wan moved up to the wall, leaning against it. She was coming near him, parallel to where he was, and Obi-Wan knew if he turned the corner, they would come face to face.

He pressed himself to the wall as she appeared out of the parallel corridor, walking a little way ahead of him. Closing his eyes and bringing the power of the Dark Side to his fingertips, he stepped forward, so he was directly behind her.

She yelped in surprise, then pain, as the lightning washed over her. She fell to her knees. Obi-Wan looked down upon the struggling figure, the blue lightening a contrast against her…_blonde_…hair?

Trying to throw off the pain, she twisted around, and looked straight up at him, through the torment. Obi-Wan hissed in irritated shock, taking a step back before leaping over the figure, running silently with the Force before she could get up, her name ringing, unwanted, in his mind.

_Siri. Siri Tachi._

_

* * *

_

Yeah, it's Siri! So with Siri comes Adi and Qui-Gon...and now everyone's in one place - what will happen? Cheers for reading, and please review!


	19. Cat and Mouse

* * *

A few people were surprised about Siri, weren't they? Glad I caught you out...and from here on in, it's only going to ger better..._

* * *

Siri. Siri Tachi. _

What the kriffing hell was she doing here?

Ducking into a dark alcove, Obi-Wan allowed himself a moment to breathe and think. Pushing aside his irritation at being so caught out – _he shouldn't have been so shocked, he should have just kept going, she was only a filthy Jedi _– Obi-Wan let himself think clearly.

If Siri was here, then that meant Adi was too. And _why_ would they be here? Perhaps it was for the mercenaries. _Perhaps_.

But Obi-Wan could think of another reason, one which made him scowl darkly.

They were here for him. As a Dark Jedi, he would be seen as a threat. So, they were here to kill him.

He wasn't going down without a fight.

So be it.

* * *

Adi cast her lightsaber out before her, letting the blade light the rough stone walls of a small cavern. It was cold and lightless here, as she made her way slowly forward, and she couldn't help the small shiver than ran down her spine. This place was really unnerving. 

She had found the caves through a small path at the back of what appeared to be the old library of the academy. She had passed through what might have once been the remnants of a door, but it had long since collapsed. Now she was in the caves beyond, trying to navigate the twisting paths in search for Obi-Wan. She hoped, for his sake and for Qui-Gon's, that he could be found – and brought back.

For almost all of their journey, Qui-Gon had been quiet, preferring to meditate and spend the time in solitude rather than talk. Adi had left him alone, trying to guess what he might be feeling. She had not been able to come up with a suitable answer, as the ever-familiar presence of Siri was at the back of her mind, always unblocked and warm. She did not want to know what it would be like to have it taken from her.

Walking through the darkness, Adi soon found herself at the edge of a deep crevice. She followed alongside it to the centre, where she could see the remnants of a bridge that had spanned the gap, a millennia ago perhaps, but had since fallen away. Standing on the edge of the spur of stone that had made up half of the original bridge, she looked back the way she had come.

Three paths, three dark openings, were lit with the little light from her sabre and some natural light filtering in near the roof of the cavern high above her. One, the once she had come from, was on her right, leaving two unexplored paths on her left and in the middle. Taking a moment to decide, Adi made her way to the left-hand one, beginning to form a mental picture of the region in her mind. She had found no traces of Obi-Wan on her initial journey – perhaps one of the other tunnels held answers.

She had just entered another small cavern, this one with a small natural lake, when she felt pain and shock emanating from her apprentice.

"Siri!"

Immediately, Adi gave herself over to the Force, letting it guide her on the fastest path back to her apprentice. She ran forward, into the caves she hadn't explored, took a left deeper into the unknown, then a right and soon found herself back at the passageway that joined the library.

Ignoring the incredibly old and decrepit computer terminals and fallen stones, Adi found her apprentice on her knees in the small outer room of the library. Siri was breathing hard, one hand wrapped around her ribs, the other on the floor, supporting her. She looked up gratefully as Adi placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, lending healing Force, as she knelt down next to her.

'_Siri?'_

'_I'm sorry to bring you running, Master.'_

Adi smiled grimly at Siri's fierce independence; she could feel Siri's irritation at herself for causing her Master to return_. 'Don't be, Padawan; you were in pain. What happened?'_

Siri looked at Adi, then down the corridor, into the semi-darkness. "It was him," she whispered.

Adi narrowed her eyes in surprise. "_Obi-Wan?_ You're sure?"

"I'd recognise him anywhere."

Adi helped her apprentice up. "Why didn't you have your lightsaber out?"

Siri looked down in embarrassment. "I didn't think I needed it, Master – I didn't sense anything…I was wrong."

"The darkness must have been helping him hide his presence," said Adi, by way of explanation, and so Siri didn't dwell on her mistakes. Siri always had dwelled on her mistakes more than her accomplishments…but there were other things to think about now. "We will have to tread carefully."

Siri pointed down the corridor. "He appeared behind me, from a side passage, and shocked me, with lightning…he stopped and jumped over me when he recognised me…"

As she trailed off, Adi assessed her Padawan with the help of the Force. There was no lasting damage, but it hurt and Siri was trying not to let it show. The discord and preoccupation Adi could feel in Siri was not physical, but the mental strain of seeing a friend immersed in Darkness.

"He could be anywhere by now. I already assumed the glowsticks were his work; meaning he knows the layout of these ruins well," she said softly to Siri as the apprentice drew her lightsaber and activated it. "Our best plan of action is to keep searching – to find him or Qui-Gon."

* * *

Qui-Gon's green lightsaber light lit the corridors with an unearthly glow. He had made his way to what appeared to be some kind of old torture or detention room – and rusted cage still stood ominously near the wall. Shaking off the images that came to mind as he looked at it, Qui-Gon kept walking, out of the room and down the corridor towards a half-closed door. 

His mind was not fully on his task; as one simple mental image that clung to him. When the Falcon had landed, right where Qui-Gon's vision had shown him, there had been another craft there: a sleek, black craft – and Qui-Gon knew his old apprentice well enough to know it was exactly the sort of ship Xanatos would have owned. It had been a definite sign that Obi-Wan was planetside.

Passing by the old, broken and fallen Sith monoliths, their symbols worn to obscurity, Qui-Gon had entered the ship, faintly hoping Obi-Wan would be on board. He hadn't been, of course, but Qui-Gon had found, in the small cabin, the signs he had been there. Namely the worn and discarded Jedi robes that lay in the corner, on the floor. For some reason, the mental image had stayed with Qui-Gon.

_Just like discarding a past…throwing away an old life, or an old identity_, Qui-Gon had thought sadly. It seemed strange, in hindsight, that simple garments and material could have so much meaning…

Bringing his thoughts back to the here and now, the Living Force, Qui-Gon looked at his new surroundings. The room opposite to the detention room was what appeared to be an old training hall. Cages lined the walls, and the floor was divided into two clear areas. Qui-Gon looked at the rusted cages in disgust. What did the Sith used to do? Who used to inhabit those cages?

It was almost like some of the training rooms in the Temple. Only the Jedi didn't have cages, and didn't practice on captives. Qui-Gon suppressed a shudder. Thank the Force the Sith were extinct.

But where, amongst all this old history and dark past, was Obi-Wan? Where was his apprentice? He had to be found – Obi-Wan had to see the truth. See what was truly going on…and Qui-Gon himself had to see if Obi-Wan was too far gone.

For if Obi-Wan _couldn't_ be saved…Qui-Gon didn't want to think about it. He put the morbid thought out of his mind, as he continued to walk the shadowed halls.

* * *

Jay sprang around another corner, blaster at the ready, only to find another dead end. She didn't know where she was – the corridor she had gone down, following the soft noise, found her lost among small chambers that seemed to have been dormitories of a kind. Old bed frames, brittle to the touch, stood in the alcoves, along with a few heavily corroded and ancient computer terminals. 

She felt she had been going in circles, and had found no sign of the kriffing Jedi. Where the hell had he vanished to? Searching this place certainly wasn't helping her focus; she was jumping at every shadow and had already fired her silenced blaster into empty corners out of fright. She couldn't remember being this scared, and she'd done numerous jobs in places more dangerous than this! If only Zak had been with her…

Leaning against a wall, trying to still her rapidly beating hearts, Jay guessed that it was just the environment's effect on her. She'd much rather be in a well-lit embassy with numerous security officers, trying to get through unseen to pull off an assassination than be here, alone in the semi-darkness trying to simultaneously find and avoid a maniacal kid.

Up ahead, she could see a dim light, coming from another entrance, one she was sure she hadn't seen before. Cool air greeted her as she moved closer, to find herself in a small, stone corridor, unlike the blank walls of the ruins. This rock was rough, uneven – like a cave wall.

Crouched in the shadows, Jay surveyed the area. The passageway had come out by a natural canyon of some kind, in a massive cavern. Thin natural light came from near the top, and Jay could see three other paths along the way, opposite to the canyon edge. She was contemplation moving from the shadows and following one of them, when something caught her eye.

A flickering blue light was moving steadily over the ground, coming from one of the passageways; the nearest one to where Jay was. She pressed herself further back into the wall, even though she was fully aware her stealth belt was working…it would be just her luck to have to malfunction right about now.

The lightsaber appeared mere moments before the Jedi who was holding it. Jay bit back a curse. More of them? She made to move back so as not to be sensed or caught, but something stopped her. A memory; something that had been said to them before they left Nar Shaddaa…a mutual contact had told them about the Jedi…

_"Nah, they look normal enough, right? Both female – one older than the other. Younger one's got a bit of a temper on her, she'd be a fierce thing in a fight; I'd bet. The other's taller and dark-skinned – wears this weird headdress thing…"_

A 'weird headdress', Jay was willing to bet, that looked strikingly similar that the one this Jedi wore. Oh kriff. They had been tracked to Korriban…her and Zak had been going to leave a few days ago, but because to the alleyway attack had been unable to…and now they were caught here unless she could move now, get back to Dreshdae and…and what? Somehow, get Zak to a transport? Or leave him behind?

Jay moved back, deeper into the corridor as the Jedi stood on a spur of rock, picked a path and vanished down it, the blue light fading with her. She spun, thanking whoever might have been watching over here that the kriffing Force hadn't caused her to be seen, and headed back the way she thought she had come. She had to leave now – forget the kid.

* * *

Obi-Wan crept along the corridors, towards the dormatories. He was looking for that cursed Iridonian – with the blasted Jedi here, she'd make everything all the more complicated. It was the best idea to get rid of her quickly, but she seemed to be keeping out of the way. He could find no trace or sense of her in the forward dormitories, where she had been heading the last time he had seen her. 

Returning to the central chamber, keeping to the shadows, Obi-Wan headed towards the east wing of the ruins, where the training hall and detention rooms were. As he did so, the sound of soft footsteps caught his ear. Determined not to be caught out like last time, Obi-Wan ducked into some deep shadows behind a partially fallen wall, to see who it was. Siri again? Adi? Or, finally, the Iridonian?

No, it was…_him_.

Qui-Gon Jinn.

Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed at the sight of his former mentor, as he walked calmly past the corridor opening and vanished, towards the training rooms. That assured Obi-Wan's suspicions. The Jedi _were_ here for a killing, and they had even brought Qui-Gon. The familiar Force-signature was right there, in the Force itself, as the purest of confirmations.

Well. If he was here, then…a meeting was inevitable. And as arrogant and determined as Qui-Gon was, Obi-Wan supposed he should have realised that Qui-Gon would follow him to wherever he went. He didn't want his kriffing project to get away now, did he?

Carefully backtracking, stalking back to the main chamber, Obi-Wan swung himself up to the top of one of the statues, sitting on top of the head: a bird of prey on a perfect vantage point. He sighed bitterly, dropping a few of his mental shields and letting his own Force signature glow again. Surely Qui-Gon had felt that. So now it was only a matter of time before Qui-Gon came to him. The central chamber would be the scene for the…_joyous..._reunion of Master and ex-apprentice.

So be it.

* * *

The academy I used is the one in _Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords _(It's a game, for those who don't know). I looked at the maps, then I added some passageways of my own. 


	20. Master and Apprentice

Ah, the long awaited confrontation. And a happy (if very late) thanksgiving to all!

* * *

It hit Qui-Gon like a wave, or a welcome breath of refreshing air.

Obi-Wan's Force signature.

He was _here_; he was near, very near…letting the Force guide him, Qui-Gon ran down a corridor to the large central chamber of the ruins. Looking at the many openings individually, Qui-Gon tried to work out which one to take. A familiar voice reached him as he weighed-up his options.

"Hello, _Master_."

It was chilling and mocking – but definitely Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon turned towards the voice, finding the chamber still deserted. A subtle nudge from the Force made him raise his gaze, to one of the statues that adorned the edge of the room. Sitting casually atop it, was Obi-Wan. He leapt lightly down; landing in a crouch a few meters away from Qui-Gon.

As he straightened up, Qui-Gon suppressed a gasp. Obi-Wan had changed. He stood straight yet relaxed – like Qui-Gon remembered – but there was a new arrogance to the stance as well. And Qui-Gon also saw that he had been right, in the cabin of Xanatos' ship – Obi-Wan was dressed completely in black, his eyes, now cold and calculating, staring calmly back, missing the light-hearted shine Qui-Gon was used to. He realised painfully that where there once had been no similarity at all to Xanatos, now there was too much.

The face was as he remembered so well…but those _eyes_…

"Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan appeared not to register that he was being spoken to, merely unclipping Xanatos' – no, _his_ – lightsaber and igniting the blade, settling into the familiar Ataru opening stance before Qui-Gon. He did not make a move, just stood at the ready. In turn, Qui-Gon masked his own emotions, regarding his broken apprentice calmly. The Jedi Master's blade had already been ignited, and he held it, pointed down, at his side, loosely in a grip to await what this encounter might bring.

Obi-Wan was betraying no emotion in his face, standing perfectly still and silent. Qui-Gon felt his own mask beginning to slip as he stared into those familiar, yet unearthly eyes…

"Obi-Wan, this isn't you."

"This is destiny," Obi-Wan replied. Like the face, the voice was the same but it held a harshness, an underlying edge of darkness.

"It is not destiny. It was desperation, torment that made you reach for the Darkness. You can turn back."

"Turn back?" Obi-Wan repeated mockingly. "Turn back, he says! Why would I want to do that?" He laughed chillingly, the sound magnified in the stone chamber.

Qui-Gon suppressed the shiver he felt; the laugh was so…unnatural. "Because this is _not who you are_."

Obi-Wan stopped laughing, his eyes narrowing in spite. "And how do you know who I am meant to be?"

"I know _you_, Obi-Wan. And I know you were hurt and hopeless, in Xanatos' captivity. I know of what you went through-"

"You know _nothing_ of what I went through!" Obi-Wan was livid now. He swung his lightsaber around so it was pointing threateningly at Qui-Gon. "You. Know. Nothing. The pain, the torture, the nightmares. The fading hope, the _false_ hope that someone would come. You left me to die, and I did. I _died_ there."

Qui-Gon could feel guilt building up in him again. "Obi-Wan, I'm sorry…I didn't get to you fast enough…"

"I don't want to hear it!" The red lightsaber hissed again as it slashed through the empty air. With anger in his eyes, Obi-Wan stepped forward and swung his weapon, forcing Qui-Gon to parry the slash. Their lightsabers met and crackled, the energy blades hitting each other hard. Qui-Gon could feel the brute strength behind Obi-Wan's blow.

Lightsabers locked together, Obi-Wan smirked through the blades. "There's no sport in using Force lightning. I'd rather bring you to your knees with a lightsaber. _Master_."

Qui-Gon leapt lightly back, breaking the combat. "I don't wish to fight you."

"You'll have no choice, Jedi," Obi-Wan replied, swinging the lightsaber lazily in one wrist, a personal habit he had, and Qui-Gon knew well.

"Obi-Wan, please, listen to me. You've lost you way…"

"I know who I am!" Obi-Wan snarled, swinging his lightsaber down so hard it left a gash in the stone floor. "I know who I am now, and I am stronger for it. My strength is triple what it was when I was Jedi!"

Qui-Gon smiled sadly. "No, Padawan, that strength is all yours, and always has been."

Obi-Wan hissed at the title. "_Padawan_, ha. That's a hollow word. I've never been your Padawan, have I? Not in the true sense of the word. I'm a project – the reject of the Jedi Order, a lost cause you think you can save. Taking me out of pity – and I have _never_ forgotten it."

"You know that's not true, Obi-Wan."

"Liar! I was never good enough, was I? But the Darkness does not care about that. It has no expectations to put upon me. It lets me be myself, not who someone else thinks I should be. It _freed_ me."

"No, it _enslaved_ you. You know this, deep down – you can feel it within you, slowly consuming you. Soon it will be too late; and you will be its slave forever. But that has not happened yet. Open your eyes, Obi-Wan. Remember what happened. You heard my torture, reached out to what strength and power you could find, to _help_ me. The Darkness was there and you only used it to save another's life!"

Obi-Wan looked momentarily confused, doubtful…were Qui-Gon's pleas reaching him, was the old Obi-Wan still there? Qui-Gon remembered the flashes of light he had felt in Obi-Wan's mind. Was he waking up, was he coming back?

But the moment passed, and Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan's dark confidence and anger slip back into place. "No, Qui-Gon, I didn't! I realised my power, my destiny, and escaped. Killing Xanatos was in revenge for what he did to me."

"And what about your attacking me? Why did you stop?"

"I…I was _surprised_…"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No, you realised what you were doing and _stopped_. You ran because you were shocked at what you had done."

"And after, the Darkness took me under its wing. I could not go back so I went forward!" Obi-Wan laughed, but it was missing a little of the confidence from before.

"You _think_ you can't come back. _But you can_," Qui-Gon said gently. He had to get this across. It was Obi-Wan's mindset that was stopping him from realising the truth – if he could break through it, Qui-Gon could save him…

"Ha! Like the _perfect_ Jedi would ever take me back. I'm past that now."

"_No, you're not_. And if you opened your mind you would see that."

Obi-Wan paused slightly, still glaring at Qui-Gon. "No. You're here to kill me, I know it. You, and Gallia and Tachi. I have seen them, I know what is going to happen."

"No, no. We came to find you, to _help_ you. To bring you back to the Light."

Obi-Wan laughed shortly in disbelief. "The Light does not want me back. The Light forsook me!"

"No, it didn't. It was _taken_ from you, but it never forsook you. It is still with you, even now." _Please, Obi-Wan, see that, come back to me…_

"_You lie_. Why the kirff would you even bother?"

"Because you're my Padawan. For ten years, we have travelled together, fought together, learnt together. I will fight for you this time and every other. I know you would do the same for me, were our places reversed. You are my Obi-Wan; my apprentice, my Padawan. I care about you."

For a moment, Qui-Gon was sure he saw his old apprentice looking back at him, the blue-grey eyes concerned and confused, and he felt a surge of joy. Obi-Wan _was_ still in there, even if he said he was convinced otherwise. But Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and when he opened them, the Darkness was back in his features and, once again, he looked nothing like the young man he had once been.

"You lie, Jedi. You've never cared about me or how I felt. You've never even considered how I might consider this development. What if I don't want to be saved? What if I can't be? What if I am mere moments away from slaughtering you?"

"Then why haven't you?"

The quiet question caught Obi-Wan completely off-guard. He tried to reply, but couldn't think of what to say, so instead he acted on his suggestion, springing forward to meet his former Master in battle.

* * *

Jay could hear the sounds of the lightsaber fight before she reached it. As she came to the main corridor, she became immediately absorbed in the display going on before her. It was the young man; the strange, mad one, and another – yet _another_ Jedi – this one a tall man, older than his opponent.

Jay couldn't help be impressed by the grace and flow of their fight. They seemed to move without any kind of effort, the two blades – one green, one red – meeting again and again in perfectly blocked strikes. The two combatants twisted and leapt around and over one another in perfect motion. Jay stood, watching, before remembering where she was and pressing herself back into the shadows.

She looked down, towards the blaster in her hand. No, it wouldn't do – a lightsaber blade would easily deflect a blaster bolt, and she had to get this one right. Her eyes, or rather, her mind fell instead on her wrist-launcher. Perfect – the darts were much smaller and faster, and could probably get through the defence; especially if the young man's mind was on the fight he was currently engaged in.

The only problem was, to see what she was doing she would have to deactivate her stealth belt. Crouching deep in the shadows and doing exactly that, Jay hoped the fight was obscuring everything else going on to those involved.

Checking the darts she had, Jay almost instantaneously picked out the one she wanted to use. It was a poison dart; coated in the nerve toxin Malkite themfar. It could take down anything almost instantly. If she could hit the young man with it, he'd go down without any fuss and she could get away, back to Dreshdale _and_ succeed in her killing of him. Excellent.

Jay primed the dart, and lined up her shot. They were moving so quickly! She would only have one shot at this, probably – as soon as it stuck, or was avoided (though that she doubted) they would know she was there.

The two fighters seemed to pause in their fight, facing one another. Something was being said, but it was too low for Jay to hear. Shrugging off her curiosity, she returned to her current task, looking along the edge of the launcher, waiting for the guy to…yes…he had moved, stepped off to the side slightly…he was in her sights; his back was to her, it was a perfect shot…

Carefully, she clicked off the safety protocols on her launcher, took a deep breath to still her body so as not to rock the shot…

…and fired.

* * *

...that's a fun cliff-hanger, isn't it? So, who got hit? Obi-Wan? Qui-Gon? Or will they both avoid it?

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	21. Hurting and Healing

I could have left this update for longer to really draw it out, but I think you, my readers, deserve it. You've stuck by me through all of this and are still reading.

i luv ewansmile, this one's for you.

* * *

Obi-Wan struck downwards again, but the green blade of Qui-Gon blocked his blow and so he sprang back, up and over Qui-Gon's head to land on the other side of him. Qui-Gon spun, meeting Obi-Wan's blade again. Obi-Wan knew, in a test of strength, he couldn't stand up to his ex-Master, so he slid his blade down Qui-Gon's, trying to flick off the hilt and injure his opponent. Qui-Gon knew the move exactly, though, and two-handily twisted his own lightsaber to cut the move short. 

Stepping back from one another, and breathing hard, Obi-Wan glared at his former Master. Both were breathing harder than normal – the fight, short as it had been, had been terribly fierce; both combatants fighting with great strength and skill.

Obi-Wan smirked. "Getting tired, old man?"

"I will not let you fall," Qui-Gon replied, letting the Force flow through him. "So I will not tire here."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, feeling the Darkness around him fluctuate and lend him strength. "Again with the preaching…"

Tensing his muscles, Obi-Wan jumped, delivering a high, downward blow as he flipped over Qui-Gon's head once again. Qui-Gon blocked, but as Obi-Wan landed and raised his lightsaber to begin another attack, he stopped.

Something wasn't right.

Qui-Gon, standing before him, was swaying where he stood. He was still looking at Obi-Wan, but his eyes were unfocused. He slowly and almost lazily brought a hand up to his shoulder, reached over for a moment before drawing his hand back – along with the small, barbed dart that had been buried in his shoulder-blade.

He fell, then, collapsing to the ground, his lightsaber deactivating as it hit the stone. Obi-Wan, confused, watched him fall and then looked up in time to duck the second dart from the Iridonian mercenary. She was in the shadows by a statue, her wrist-launcher out in front of her.

In one swift movement, calling on the Force to help him, Obi-Wan leapt half the chamber, over Qui-Gon, and landed before her, using the Force to push her quickly into the wall. She was thrown into the stone hard, flying back and hitting her head. She fell, motionless, to the ground, knocked out.

The mercenary taken care of and now out of commission, Obi-Wan crossed back across the chamber to Qui-Gon. Kneeling down next to the fallen Jedi and casting aside his sabre, Obi-Wan placed one hand lightly on his Master's neck, assessing him with the help of the Force. There was poison in his bloodstream – a fast acting toxin; his body was rapidly shutting down.

"No…"

Something broke inside him, some barrier of a kind. He could feel the Light there with him, to help him, and he drew from it, drawing the healing strength he needed. He placed a hand on Qui-Gon's chest and calmed himself.

Pushing aside all feelings of anxiety, irritation, grief and guilt that threatened to cloud his focus, just as he had been taught, Obi-Wan opened himself to the Force and let it flow through him. He had to act fast. Qui-Gon was dying before him; Obi-Wan swore to himself he would not let that happen.

Warmth, light, flowed into him, helping him to push the healing energy into his Master, willing the toxin away, cleansing the bloodstream. It had to work, it just had to. Obi-Wan poured all his strength into him, trying to heal the damage that had been done and prevent anything further. He could feel it slowly working, but could also feel that Qui-Gon was failing faster than he was healing.

Pushing aside the new despair currently threatening to cloud his mind, Obi-Wan focused more and more on his Master, determined to give everything to save him. He would not fail him. He _would_ save him. He had to.

But it wasn't enough. The Force could only do so much; he couldn't get it to help anymore than it was doing. So, knowing full well what it could mean, Obi-Wan turned his focus deeper, drawing on his own strength.

After what seemed like hours (but could only have been a few minutes) of deep healing concentration, coaxing the body of Qui-Gon to heal and live fully again, Obi-Wan could feel himself beginning to weaken. This had gone past his connection to the Force, he was now giving his _own_ life-force to save his Master

He was blind and deaf to the world around him. Through the deep healing trance came images – memories. Of worlds, old missions long since passed, the things that had happened and the people that had been met. Bandomeer, the mines…being prepared to give his life for the Jedi that was not his Master, not yet. Melida/Daan, leaving the Order. Attacks on the Temple. _Xanatos…_

With that name, Obi-Wan felt anger, darkness, rising up in a wave within him. His connection to Qui-Gon, and the healing, slipped slightly, so Obi-Wan hurriedly pushed away the building emotions and brought himself back to a state of calm to continue healing.

His thoughts were beginning to run together; his focus was slipping. He was loosing himself, becoming weaker, pouring all the strength and Force he could into Qui-Gon. He would live. He would.

Obi-Wan realised that he, himself, was dying now. He had gone past the point of return, but he no longer cared. His heartbeat had slowed, his breaths all but stopped; his body was held in a trance-like state as he freely gave away his strength.

His physical strength was fading quicker than his mental strength and Force connection, and so he did not stop himself as he fell limply to his side, laying next to his Master on the floor. He managed to keep his hand on Qui-Gon's chest though, to keep the connection as strong as he could manage.

In this semi-conscious, half-real state, the universe seemed clearer. Had it really come to this? Had he really done and said those things? It hardly mattered now. Obi-Wan felt himself slipping deeper, into the Force.

He didn't care.

Qui-Gon would live.

Obi-Wan would give his strength to see it so. Gladly give his own life.

And so he slipped deeper and deeper into the trance, into the Force, still healing the man who lay beside him.

…_give his own life…

* * *

_

Following the now silenced sounds of battle, Adi entered the chamber mere moments before Siri, who was a step behind her. The first thing the Master noticed was an Iridonian female against the wall, unconscious. Checking over the body, Adi realised she matched the description of the female mercenary they had been tracking, Jay…how strange a coincidence.

"Master!" Siri's urgent call made her turn, to see two fallen figures in the centre of the stone floor. Both were familiar, and Adi's heart dropped as she saw them.

"Are they…dead?" Siri asked Adi quietly as she approached.

"I'm not sure." Crossing to the prone figures quickly, Adi lightly placed a hand on Qui-Gon's forehead. "He's alive, but barely… I can sense traces of something, like a poison, in his system. He needs time and care to fully recover."

Siri had knelt down next to her friend. "Obi-Wan's life-force is very weak…he's fading slowly…by the Force; what happened to them?"

"Look…" Adi picked up what had been in Qui-Gon's limp hand. "A toxic dart of some kind…" She looked between the two still figures and the Iridonian mercenary, working out what had happened. "She must have fired on them, hit Qui-Gon…and…" Adi's eyes widened as she considered the possibilities. "Mercenaries wouldn't shoot to stun or sedate; they would shoot to _kill_. This should have killed him…" Looking back to the limp figures of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, she suddenly gasped. "I don't believe this…Obi-Wan must have healed him."

Siri's eyes widened too, in confusion and surprise. "What?"

Adi motioned to Obi-Wan's body. "Look at him – one hand on Qui-Gon's chest, and the position he is in dictates he was kneeling…Obi-Wan was _healing_ him…he saved Qui-Gon…he was prepared to give his life for his Master…"

Siri looked back down at the still form of Obi-Wan. "He healed him? But…hadn't he turned?"

"Apparently not. We both know healing is a Light-Side act… Qui-Gon, and Yoda, were both right. He hadn't gone over completely." Adi folded her arms in thought. "We need to get them both back to the Temple – they need the healer's wing."

"What about her?" Siri asked, flicking a glance in the direction of the mercenary.

"We'll wake her, contact the authorities of Dreshdale. They can take care of them – her partner must also be here – until the Jedi can arrange a prisoner transport back to Coruscant. Strange how the Force works."

Siri nodded as she stood, getting out her comlink and putting a communication through to the authorities, moving away as she began to speak softly. Adi stood too, considering how to transport the two figures of their friends back to the _Falcon_.

'_Ask them to bring two hover-stretchers, too.'_

'_Yes, Master.'_

Siri ended the communication. "They're on their way…" She was about to continue, but was interrupted by a soft groan coming from the mercenary. The Iridonian's orange eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at the two Jedi who were now standing over her.

"Suppose I can't run anymore, right?" She said weakly, a defeated grin on her face.

"Where's your partner?" Adi asked, with a slight wave of her hand, letting the Force impact upon Jay and drawing out the truth.

She blinked once. "In an abandoned warehouse in the industrial sector. That kid did something to him – he's alive but won't wake up…" She sighed as Adi Force-suggested her into sleep.

An hour or so later, they were ready to leave. Jay had been handed over to the authorities, her information about the hideout given over to their chief. They were under heavy guard, and Adi felt that it was the best that could be done now. Xanatos' ship would be impounded and held by the Dreshdale authorities too, for the Jedi to collect.

Both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were onboard the Falcon, having been moved there with the help of the stretchers. Neither had moved or showed any signs of regaining consciousness. Adi was afraid either might die at any moment, slip away into the Force woth no warning, as both were very weak.

They had to get back to Coruscant, to the Temple. She and Siri had to get help for them both, before something worse happened. Neither could survive long without Jedi treatment.

Adi hoped they could make it.

* * *

I hope that was at least half-way decent, as I know many were waiting for this chapter...hope it didn't dissapoint!


	22. Watching and Waiting

We're in the home stretch now, my friends! Not much more left...thanks for the continued support and reviews.

* * *

He could hear something.

A blur of sound washed over him, through the haze. He could hear voices, people talking, but the words had no meaning and were nothing more than indistinguishable sounds. It was like they were speaking another language, and then speaking it through mist. The sound wavered in and out of his focus, almost a whisper and then a shout, before becoming quieter again.

He couldn't open his eyes; his body wasn't responding. He felt incredibly weak…in all actuality he felt _terrible_. It was as if there was a massive weight on him, or he was caught beneath something, deep water maybe. He was lying somewhere, though. Somewhere warm.

His mind was in confusion and unfocused. He could feel the Force around him, feel…something familiar.

What had happened?

Where was he?

He felt so tired, so weak…the depths of unconsciousness beckoned.

* * *

He rose again to a state of semi-consciousness. This time, around him was silence, a deep nothingness. He thought, maybe, he could hear distant voices, very distant…and something closer…a sigh, breathing? Was someone there with him? 

As if in answer, he felt someone lift his unresponsive right hand from where it lay beside him. Something cool to the touch and smooth was put into his palm and his fingers were gently closed around it. Then his hand was put back down next to him, now limply holding…whatever it was.

There was another slight sound of movement. He felt his head turned, then a gentle, methodical tugging on the side of his head. What…? Slowly, through the fog of his mind, he realised what whoever it was must be doing…re-braiding his Padawan braid… the person worked swiftly and gently, twisting the fine hairs back into the traditional symbol.

He was slipping again…he wanted to open his eyes to see who was with him, but couldn't…

* * *

Qui-Gon finished the braid, tying a second new coloured band in near the base of the plait and fiddling with the two old ones as he stood back up. It made him feel better, somehow – the two bands he held in his hand, which he had taken out of Obi-Wan's hair, were worn and dulled, their colour lost beneath the layer of dirt upon them. The new ones, one a strong yellow and the other red, looked much better - as did the braid itself. Qui-Gon stood for a moment longer before leaving the small infirmary room. 

Outside, as he threw the old bands away, he could feel a familiar presence come up behind him. "Good evening, Mace," Qui-Gon said without turning around, standing by the observation window that looked into Obi-Wan's room. Mace came up next to him, his hands folded into the deep sleeves of his robe.

"Good evening, Qui-Gon. Shouldn't you be resting?"

Qui-Gon shot an incredulous look at his friend. "Do you think I can?"

Mace surrendered a slight smile. "No, perhaps not. How _are_ you feeling, though?"

"Alive," said Qui-Gon with a half-shrug. "Still weak, sometimes tired too."

"And the poison's left no after-effects?"

"Not according to the healers."

Silence descended between the two Jedi Masters, as both watched through the window, looking into the semi-darkened infirmary room. Inside, Obi-Wan was lying on a simple bed, still and alone – the various machines of the healer's wing had been deemed unneeded for this case. This was no physical injury or disease; either he would wake, or he would not.

Mace sighed, digging his hands deeper into his sleeves. "Tell me once more what happened."

Qui-Gon rubbed a hand over his face, fending off the fatigue he felt. Adi and Siri had told him what they guessed, and along with his own information the three of them had come up with the series of events they believed to be the truth. Although Qui-Gon himself still couldn't quite believe it, there wasn't any other possible explanation.

Once again, Qui-Gon told the tale. It had already been told to the full Council in session, and once again to Mace and Yoda; the small Jedi Master asking as many questions as he could think of.

"…and that is all _I_ remember. When I managed to regain consciousness on the way back to Coruscant, Adi explained to me what they had found and what had happened since my passing out…"

"We had heard the sounds of battle," said Adi, entering as if on cue. "Evening, Masters. I had come to see if there were any developments?" Smiling sadly as Qui-Gon shook his head, she put a hand on his arm. "He'll wake, Qui-Gon." She turned back to Mace, continuing the story.

Relived from his story-telling duties, Qui-Gon half listened to Adi's explanation, still looking through the observation glass of the infirmary room.

'_Padawan?' _He had tried to contact Obi-Wan through the link many times, but the result was always the same – silence. This time was no different, and Qui-Gon had to stop himself from sighing in defeat. _'Please, Padawan…come back to me…'_

Next to Qui-Gon, Mace nodded as he heard the story again, making sense of it all. "And you thought it was a healing?"

"What else could it _be_, Mace? If Jay had shot Qui-Gon with the toxic dart, and Obi-Wan had knocked her out, it made sense that he had healed his Master. Qui-Gon should have been dead; mercenaries are known to use fast-acting, lethal poisons, you know that."

"He was prepared to give his life for me, Mace," Qui-Gon said quietly, coming out of his thoughts and still staring at his unmoving apprentice. "He tried to."

Mace looked at his friend closely for a moment before answering. "So you were right, and for that I am relived. I apologise, Qui-Gon, for my comments in Yoda's chamber; about Obi-Wan being a Dark Jedi – I was thinking of the worst-case scenario."

"I know you were, old friend. Sometimes I think the Council and Order rule you more than you do yourself."

A shadow of a smile appeared on Mace's features. "Perhaps. So Obi-Wan turned to the Darkness to save you, using what strength he could find in desperation. And he turned back to save you again, using the Light. He's one remarkable apprentice, Qui-Gon."

"I know, Mace," Said Qui-Gon, looking fondly at the sleeping figure. "I know. But you must remember, he didn't turn at all, only _thought_ he had. My life in danger made him wake up to the reality of the situation…at least, I hope it did."

Adi and Mace turned to him simultaneously. "What do you mean?" Mace asked.

"Obi-Wan is a excellent apprentice, wise beyond his years and caring. He's altruistic, clever, and will make a fine Jedi Knight one day. He does, though, have a habit of dwelling on his mistakes and the things he considers his failings. It will take some time for Obi-Wan to get over his actions, no matter the reasons behind them or what we might say to him. I think, when he wakes, he will still be convinced he belongs to the Dark Side."

"But what about his healing of you?" said Adi gently. "Surely he must realise what that means?"

Qui-Gon sighed again, as he voiced his worries. "I don't know if he will…he will find some way to dismiss it. Once he is in a specific mindset, it is difficult to get him out of it."

"That, Qui-Gon, sounds like something he picked up off you," Mace said with a glint of amusement in his eye. It faded as he returned to more serious matters. "But you know as well as I, if there is anyone who can convince him otherwise and open his eyes, heart and mind to the truth, it will be you."

Qui-Gon nodded. In the following silence, Adi bid her fellow Masters good night and slipped away from the healer's wing, back to her own quarters and restless Padawan. Siri was worried about Obi-Wan – she was trying to be patient and act like the Jedi she was, but Adi could see Siri spending the hours in anxiety. She was not the only one – many others were worried too. Adi had heard the rumours as she had walked the Temple halls these past few days.

'_Senior Padawan Kenobi? I heard he was in a fight with Dark Jedi…'_

'_I heard he _was_ a Dark Jedi!'_

'_Apparently he healed his Master to the point of his own death…'_

'_Do you think he'll live?'_

'_What do you think really happened?'_

* * *

Siri was sitting on one of the couches in the apartment, her arms around her tucked up knees, looking out the window. For what seemed like hours, Adi had been telling her apprentice to get some sleep and go to bed early for once. Siri had nodded silently but not moved, and a few minutes later there had been a knock on the door. Outside were four familiar faces – Masters Kit Fisto and Tholme, and their apprentices. 

Adi had invited them in immediately; and the three Padawan's had moved together, talking quietly. All three had been involved with the search for Obi-Wan at one point or another, and all were his friends. When Adi and Siri had arrived back, the two other Master-Padawan teams had been among the first to learn of what had happened due to their earlier involvement. Between them, they were the only ones who knew the truth other than the Council and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon themselves.

Adi had gone down to the healer's wing on behalf of them all, sensing the worry that was beginning to dwell in the room needed some kind of answer.

Five different faces looked to her as she re-entered the apartment.

"Any change?" asked Tholme, sitting with Kit on the opposite couch to Siri.

Adi shook her head as she closed the door. "No. Qui-Gon's worried Obi-Wan will still be convinced he belongs on the Dark Side when he wakes…" she sighed. "By the Force, he's meant to be resting, too! His body can't be completely healed of the poison, yet he's standing guard either outside or inside Obi-Wan's room." She paused in thought, before continuing softly. "Then again, any of us would do the same were it us."

Siri moved her gaze from her Master to the window again. Outside, the life on Coruscant was blissfully ignorant to the situation inside the Temple. She sighed inwardly in pain, her thoughts on the same subject they had been since leaving Korriban. She had sat beside the unconscious Obi-Wan on the journey back, watching over him until Qui-Gon awoke and became strong enought to take over the position. Yet even he slept, still very weak from the poison, and so Siri could return to the hours of watching over her friend. Would he wake? Would he still be Dark? Could he wake at any time, very suddenly, reach out, and kill her – finish the job from before? Was he going to die? Was he going to come back to them – to her?

It was in these times of internal darkness Siri kept her shields strong to allow the forbidden thoughts to come to mind. Yes, she loved him. And if she could heal him with that, she would. They had agreed never to speak of it, putting duty over feelings, but it was still there, a light in the back of her mind. She couldn't bear to see him fall fully into ruin, or die….

"Did the analysis come back from the dart, Master Gallia?" asked Quinlan, breaking Siri from her thoughts. He was standing near the window, behind her. Quinlan had recovered well from the trauma of his hellish psychometric reading thanks to the Mind-Healers of the Temple and hours of help from Tholme, and was now back to normal – or as normal as a Jedi was.

Adi took the results, printed on a piece of flimsy, out of her pocket. "Yes, I picked them up just now, on the way back from the healer's wing." Sinking into a chair, she passed them to Quinlan, who read them quickly, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Well, Padawan?" Tholme prompted gently.

"It says the dart was a Malkite themfar dart…" Quinlan looked up and around the small, crowed room.

"The nerve toxin?" Kit murmured disbelievingly. The same disbelief was shared by all those in the room, as were the same thoughts – Qui-Gon should be dead, and it was a credit to Obi-Wan's strength that he was able to save him, heal him…

The hope shared by all six Jedi had come to pass – Obi-Wan had come back to the Light, or so it appeared. But would he be the same?

* * *

"Qui-Gon, you should rest."

He ignored Mace, keeping his gaze on Obi-Wan, who still had not moved.

Mace sighed in return, considering leaving his friend to stand guard like he was, and going to get some sleep himself. Lost in thought, he almost missed it when Qui-Gon spoke.

"What if he doesn't wake up?"

"What?"

"It's been so long, longer than it should have been. What if he can't recover from giving up so much strength, and he slips away from me – from us? He's shown _no_ signs of any kind of recovery – no movement, nothing. What if he doesn't wake up at all?"

Mace placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "Qui-Gon, he'll be okay. He'll wake. We just have to be patient – he did almost die, it'll take his body a while to recover the strength he needs to even open his eyes, let alone fully recover." He hoped Qui-Gon picked the hint he was trying to send: Obi-Wan wasn't the only one who was on the road to recovery.

Qui-Gon nodded absently to his friend's words, picking up the message but ignoring it. "_You_ should go and sleep, Mace. I'll be fine."

Mace sighed and turned away towards the door, pausing halfway there. "I know you will be. And he will be too."

Now alone, Qui-Gon entered his Padawan's small room, sinking down into the bedside chair he had left hours before. He couldn't loose him. Obi-Wan had sacrificed firstly himself, and now his strength, for Qui-Gon. To have come through so much, only to loose him like this? It was unthinkable.

Qui-Gon had tried to return the healing energy, but either he was too weak or the darkness was still lingering in Obi-Wan and preventing it from helping. Obi-Wan had to eradicate the darkness himself, consciously let it go. Because of this, Qui-Gon could do nothing but wait by his student's side, praying he would wake. The darkness could not be eliminated if Obi-Wan did not wake, but it prevented Light Side Force-assisted healing…

Qui-Gon bowed his head, one hand on Obi-Wan's.

Mace was right. He had to be patient.

* * *

So...yea. Everybody's worried, Obi-Wan's out of it and I'm the only one who knows what's going to happen! Hope this chapter wasn't a let down (I know people have liked the previous few) and I will update soon!


	23. Waking and Truth

An update for you all! This is what many have been waiting for.

(And great apologies for not replying to reviews! I've tried, but I can't seem to send them for some reason - every time I click the link, I get the Dictionary/Thesaurus page...strange...)

* * *

He felt _terrible_. 

Opening his eyes slowly, Obi-Wan slowly focused on the room he was in and the dim light that was coming in through the windows. It appeared to be sometime around dawn, the growing light that of the rising sun. He stared at it for a moment, before looking around his surroundings.

As he did so, he felt his heart drop. This was a place he knew well. The white walls, the calm atmosphere? The comforting, strong feel of the Force around him? The currently unused machines that sat innocently against one wall…the Jedi Temple's healing wing.

Oh, _Force_.

He wasn't meant to be here, he didn't belong here; not anymore. He had to leave, but he was weak, and didn't have enough strength to get up properly. Looking down, he noticed something was in his hand. Bringing it up to his face in inspect it closely in the light, Obi-Wan saw that it was a stone…_his_ stone. Black with thin streaks of red; the very same one Qui-Gon had given to him on his thirteenth birthday. It was warm, the Force flowing from and around it. Obi-Wan put it down on the table next to his bed.

No, he couldn't touch that, couldn't risk contaminating it with the Darkness that was within him. He made to move, but still could not, or at least, not very well. Summoning all the strength he had, which was very little, he swung his legs out of the bed and stood, shakily.

He thought he could make it, but after only a step or two, a wave of dizziness swept over him and he was falling towards the floor…only to be caught gently in two strong arms.

Obi-Wan knew exactly who it was, so said nothing and did not look at Qui-Gon as he was helped back to the bed. Now lying down again, Obi-Wan turned his head away from the Jedi as he sat down beside the bed. The silence in the room deepened.

"I shouldn't be here," Obi-Wan said quietly. As much as it hurt to admit, he knew he was right.

"You have every right to be," came the gentle reply from beside him.

"No, I don't! I lost that right a some time ago. I am a servant of the Darkness, not the Light! I shouldn't be here. Unless I am a captive, which I doubt by my surroundings. This is not where I should be. Not where I belong."

There was a sigh. "You do belong here, Obi-Wan. Not once have you renounced the Order or said you were _no longer a_ _Jedi_. And you are _not_ a servant of the Darkness."

"Yes, I am. It has taken me under its shadow; I use its power. I have turned, Jedi. I contaminate this place with my presence!"

Qui-Gon sighed again. He knew it would most likely be like this. Obi-Wan was still convinced he was a Dark Jedi. "Obi-Wan, look at me."

The young man didn't turn his head.

"Padawan. _Look at me_."

And, slowly, he did. Qui-Gon regarded him gently yet calmly, but inside he was longing to embrace his apprentice. This, however, had to be done carefully. Obi-Wan had to be made to see the truth that was before him, realise the answers and come to terms with what he had been through.

The blue-grey eyes that stared at him held none of the harshness that Qui-Gon had seen in them before. There was doubt, confusion, depression and guilt, but no arrogance, hate or deep darkness – a few shadows lingered, perhaps.

"You are _not_ a Dark Jedi. Don't you remember what happened? You were broken by Xanatos. He shattered your hope, your mind, your spirit. He left you in the centre of a Dark Side Force nexus, where the darkness weighted down on you and the Light was kept from you. You couldn't stop the torture he inflicted upon you – both physical and mental; it drove you to depression, to a shatter-point. That was not your fault. You took what power, what strength you could find, when you heard me being tortured. You acted to save me, Obi-Wan, and used the Darkness to come to my aid."

Qui-Gon looked down at his hands before continuing softly. "You sacrificed yourself to save me. You sacrificed _yourself _– who you were, what you stood for, what you believed in, the life you have lived for the past twenty-odd years."

He passed again, risking a glance at Obi-Wan. The Padawan was staring straight ahead, listening but looking past his immediate surroundings – lost in memory or thought.

"You turned to save me. Saving in itself is a Light-Side act. Your actions prove your intentions; your instincts prove your heart. The Light is within you; the Darkness is only in your mind. It is an illusion, Padawan. _Let go_."

"Do you know what it feels like?" Obi-Wan whispered suddenly, startling Qui-Gon. "At first, the Dark is cool and refreshing, tempting, calming. It gives you strength and power. But in reality, it's icy cold and killing you slowly. You don't realise the truth because you're blind to it. If you do realise, there's no hope left, because you're already fully taken by it. I couldn't fight it. It seemed like the obvious truth laid before me. I can still feel it…I can't fight it."

Qui-Gon immediately reached out and grasped Obi-Wan's hand. The touch brought Obi-Wan out of his disoriented mind and back to reality. "No, Padawan. You've never given yourself over to it, you only think you did."

"But I…"

Qui-Gon cut him off. "Did you ever kill anyone? No."

"Xanatos." The reply was whispered bitterly.

"As I have said, that was in defence of my life, which I thank you for. Aside from him, no one is dead. Not one person you attacked died - the mercenaries are alive; I am, Siri is. You never killed in cold blood."

Obi-Wan was quiet, not replying to Qui-Gon's reasoning.

"When we fought one another, why didn't you use the lightning? It would have defeated me easily, yet you fought sabre to sabre."

"I wanted to best you physically."

Qui-Gon smiled slightly. "No, you didn't want to kill me."

Obi-Wan's brow furrowed in confusion. "I did…" he said, but Qui-Gon could hear the uncertainty in his words.

"So why did you heal me?"

This put Obi-Wan back into silence. He couldn't think of an answer. Qui-Gon pressed his apprentice's hand, making Obi-Wan turn to look at him again.

'_And what about this?'_

Obi-Wan frowned, uncertain.

'_Why did you not sever it? You only blocked it. And this, too.'_ Qui-Gon reached out for Obi-Wan's braid and tugged it gently._ 'You still have your braid.'_

"So?" Obi-Wan replied bitterly.

"Why did you not remove it? Isn't it a symbol of the past, of who you _once_ were? Why did you keep it if it was associated with the Light?"

Obi-Wan really did look confused and doubtful now, as he tried to think of an answer, a reason. "I…don't know…"

"You see? There was always a part of you that could see the truth," Qui-Gon said gently. He hoped that it was working, that Obi-Wan was coming though the lies and deceptions he had put himself under, to see the reality of it all.

But the Padawan put a hand over his face. "No, no…I'm gone, Qui-Gon. I've done terrible things, the Darkness has claimed me for is own…"

Qui-Gon bit his lip. He had to keep trying, to get through to him. "What about this regret?"

"What of it?"

"Listen to yourself, Obi-Wan! These are not the thoughts of a Dark Jedi. These are the thoughts of a Jedi who went through torture and torment and lost their way – but not forever."

Obi-Wan's eyes appeared from under the hand on his face as it dropped back to his side. Qui-Gon could see something wonderfully familiar about them now.

"And haven't you wondered how I am here? If you need any more proof, it is this: you _healed_ me. I was struck by a toxic dart, and you healed me, almost giving your life in the process."

"I was glad to." The reply was soft yet certain.

Qui-Gon could have laughed. That was the old Obi-Wan, his Obi-Wan, shining through. "You could not have done that if you were an agent of Darkness. The Light was with you, there for you. Self-sacrifice is also not a Dark Side trait."

Obi-Wan was nodding now, his eyes wide. Was it possible? Could he really get through this? Was he finding his way, where once all was lost in Darkness?

"Open yourself to the Force. Let go of the emotions and memories that tie you to this illusion, Padawan."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, letting the Force flow around him…oh, how he had missed its warmth! He tried to let go of everything that had happened, feeling a weight lift from him. The Light was there. It had always been there, and always would. Qui-Gon _was_ telling the truth. The darkness dissolved, leaving him. It was like a breath of clean air after being underwater…

Opening his eyes, Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon, pushing himself off the bed on unstable arms. He looked at Qui-Gon – and smiled. A true, impish grin, one which Qui-Gon knew well and had missed. "Padawan?"

"Master…you were right. I was so sure I had turned…"

Qui-Gon wrapped his arms around the frail young man. "No, Obi-Wan. One is never on the Dark Side unless they truly admit it. You never did, not fully. Yet the illusion that you put upon yourself was so strong…well, you needed some help to find the truth."

Obi-Wan drew back out of the comforting embrace. "But all the things I did? How can anyone forgive me for them? I even attacked you… how could you, or the Jedi forgive me or take me back?"

"Take you back? You never left. And I have forgiven you; I forgave you as you fled on Dromund Kaas. But _you_ must forgive _yourself_."

Obi-Wan looked down in defeat. "I don't know if I can. I failed you."

"Oh, Obi-Wan. You didn't fail me, you never have."

The response was whispered, tinged with hurt and grief. "What about Melida/Daan?"

Qui-Gon frowned inwardly. So many years later, and it was still on his mind? "What of it? That was many years ago. You did not fail me then, either. If anything, I failed you."

"But I-"

"Alright, if you must have it your way," said Qui-Gon, cutting him off, "We failed each other, so that instance is cancelled out. Therefore, you have never failed me."

Obi-Wan didn't know what to say. To have walked the edge of Darkness, to be helped and healed back to the Light…

"I am sorry, though, Master. For the attack. For everything I said. I didn't mean it."

Qui-Gon regarded him through compassionate eyes. "Ah, but you did. Yet now I think I understand you a little better, my Padawan. And I will say this now: you are not, in any way, a reject of the Jedi Order, a Padawan out of pity, or one of my 'projects' as you so fondly call them. You have never been 'not good enough' and are continuously proving to me your skill and strength."

Obi-Wan looked down in embarrassment, as Qui-Gon laughed softly. "And you're still no good at taking compliments."

"Thank you, Master – for not giving up on me. You came after me, and didn't give me up for lost after my…_actions_ on Dromund Kaas. I would still be thinking I was Dark were it not for you." Obi-Wan could feel unshed tears in his eyes, but he still had pride enough left to not want to cry in front of his Master! "I will never forget what you did for me."

"Nor I you – you gave yourself, then almost your life, for me." Qui-Gon reached out and laid a hand gently on his apprentice's face. "Now, you must rest, Obi-Wan.. Remember the healing: your sacrifice almost succeeded, and so your body is incredibly weak. The Force will help you, now you will let it, as will I. Rest you body, heal your mind, forgive yourself."

"Yes, Master…" Obi-Wan murmured as the Force-induced sleep came upon him. He was slipping away, the comforting presence of Qui-Gon in his mind and beside him...

"Sleep, Padawan. Rest, heal, _forgive_."

* * *

Aw, he's okay! Hope that was decent and a good waking-up-after-severe-weakness conversation/scene.

Now: Blatant self-advertising.

I've recently put up two Obi-Wan/Siri stories, called _Understanding_ and _Understood_. If, by some miracle, you like my writing, feel free to go and check them out (and review)!


	24. Forgiving and Accepting

Here we go. A wind-down chapter, if you will.

* * *

Qui-Gon was still sitting by Obi-Wan when Mace Windu appeared an hour or so later, rolling his eyes in fake exasperation as he opened the door. "I knew I'd still find you here."

"I _did_ actually sleep, Mace; I did take your advice."

Mace grinned. "For once." His gaze moved past Qui-Gon to the bed, and the grin faded. "How is he?"

Qui-Gon looked back at his sleeping apprentice, feeling the Force swirling around him, and the unresponsiveness of Obi-Wan's mind, deep in healing. "He woke before."

Mace's eyebrows rose. "He did?"

"Yes, Mace. I _was_ right – he was convinced he was still serving the Darkness and didn't belong here. He tried to leave."

This was a definite surprise to Mace; Obi-Wan had been close to death – he would be extremely weak physically. "In his condition?"

Qui-Gon half-shrugged. "In truth, my friend, he fell when I entered and I caught him. I had felt him wake through my own sleep, and entered in time to prevent his fall – he wasn't even strong enough to support his own weight."

"And?" Mace prompted his friend and fellow Jedi gently. What had happened? Surely the two of them had talked. What had been the outcome? Was Obi-Wan Light or Dark? Was he whole or unhealed?

As if divining his thoughts, Qui-Gon turned to Mace, smiling. "He'll be fine. I showed him the truth, convinced him to open his mind and heart to the Force. He now feels extremely guilty, and it will take time for him comes to terms with what he did, and to forgive himself, but I have confidence he will heal."

"Warms my heart, to hear this, it does," murmured a familiar voice from the doorway. Both Mace and Qui-Gon bowed to Yoda, who was standing by the door leaning on his stick. He came across to the both of them and tapped Qui-Gon lightly on the shin with the end of the cane. "Right, we were, Master Qui-Gon."

"Yes, Master. It is a joy and a relief to have him back, to feel our unblocked bond again. I only hope he _can_ forgive himself. Even as we spoke, he brought up Melida/Daan…"

"You mean when he left the Order? Wasn't he only thirteen?" asked Mace, brow furrowed.

Yoda nodded. "Years ago, it was. Why this, did you bring up?"

"As an example, Master. His decision on Meldia/Daan still sits in the deep recess of his mind – and so this ordeal will stay with him for a long time, perhaps forever. He is the only one who can let it go. I will help him as much as I can to come to terms with it, but there is so much he must do himself."

"Tread carefully, you should. Guide him."

"I will, Master."

* * *

He could feel death, despair, pain, suffering…it wrapped around him like a robe and blocked out everything else. He could see…bodies – corpses – littering the ground, people he _knew_, dead and covered in blood, sightless eyes staring to the sky. He could see, there among the dead …_himself_…Xanatos' ringing laughter was in his ears…

Qui-Gon's eyes opened, and the dark room came back into focus. A dream, nothing more. Trying to dispel the feel of it and return to the peace of sleep, Qui-Gon came slowly to the realisation that the feelings were not going away – because they were not his. The hazy images and evil emotions came not from his own mind – but filtered through the Force bond he shared with Obi-Wan.

Sitting up in his makeshift bed (he was currently sleeping in the small common area outside Obi-Wan's infirmary room) he could see the prone figure of his apprentice in the bed, softly illuminated by moonlight. Obi-Wan appeared to be still asleep, but Qui-Gon could tell from his breathing patterns he wasn't – and, sure enough, as Qui-Gon watched, Obi-Wan opened his eyes and brought a hand up to his face. Qui-Gon watched his chest heave as the young man sighed.

Guilt was now the overriding emotion coming from the bond at the back of Qui-Gon's mind. He hesitated, wondering if he should or shouldn't intrude on his Padawan's thoughts.

'_Padawan? Are you all right?'_

There was a momentary flicker of surprise, and Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan strengthen the mental shields that had slipped. _'Yes, Master, fine. My apologies for waking you.'_

Qui-Gon was sure he was holding back. _'Obi-Wan, what was it?'_

'_Oh, it was nothing, Master.'_ The answer was too carefree. Too light, to quickly said: an excuse.

Even though Obi-Wan could not see him, Qui-Gon frowned. _'I saw some of it; brief flashes. Tell me.'_

There was no reply.

Qui-Gon decided to attack this point blank. _'Was this what you saw during your captivity?'_

There was a pause. _'Every time I closed my eyes,'_ came the soft answer.

'_Oh, Padawan.'_ Qui-Gon shook his head sadly, feeling helpless now he understood at least a tiny bit of what Obi-Wan had gone through. _'You have been through more than most, if not all, of the Masters and the Knights twice your age.'_

There was a gentle echo of comfort along the bond._ 'I'm fine, Master. Don't worry.'_

'_Obi-Wan, you have been my apprentice for ten years. I know when you're lying'._

There was a strained laugh. _'Of course you do, Master, and of course you're right. I'm not fine – but I will be.'_

Qui-Gon smiled at that, giving his apprentice messages of strength and comfort through the Force. _'I know you will be.'

* * *

_

A hand brushed the side of his face, trailed down the Padawan braid and lingered on the end of it, the fingertips lightly on his chest. With effort, Obi-Wan brought himself back to full consciousness, groaning slightly as his eyes opened. As his vision cleared and he focused on the figure beside him, Obi-Wan smiled faintly. His words came weakly, half-whispered.

"Siri?"

She moved her hand from his chest and pressed his hand gently. "Hi, Obi-Wan."

Looking up at her smiling next to him, Obi-Wan saw a brief flash of Korriban – Siri, tortured by Force-lightning, _his_ power…cowering on the ground as she cried out…

"Siri…I'm so sorry. I…I…" He didn't know what to say to make it better, shaking his head helplessly. "I have no excuse…"

Siri slipped her hand into his, gripping it gently. "You were confused and lost, Obi-Wan, teased by the darkness. It's alright, really – I forgive you."

Obi-Wan looked away from her. "I _attacked_ you."

She tucked a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear with her free hand. "You didn't know it was me – and you stopped when you recognised me. What more is there to forgive?"

He couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. How could he, after what he did? He _hurt_ her, brought her to her knees. She was his friend! She was more than that…He felt her shift next to his bedside, felt her hand leave his. It moved to his face, turning his head back to her. "I've known you for _years_, Obi-Wan. You're my friend. _It wasn't your fault_. Can't you see that?" She pulled him into a hug. "You're such a stubborn idiot sometimes, Obi."

Obi-Wan relaxed in her embrace, putting his own arms around her. "I'm still sorry."

She pulled away from him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And I suppose you always will be. How about this – when you're fully recovered, I'll give you a practice duel. If I win, you forget this."

He laughed – how like her to make a competition out of it. "And if I win?"

"Oh, you won't." She pushed him back down, so Obi-Wan was lying again. "Now, _rest_! I wasn't even meant to come and see you – and if I keep you awake any longer, Master Qui-Gon will probably have me doing kitchen duties for a month."

She gave him a smile and a wave, and was gone. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, knowing that at least _she_ forgave him - his beautiful Siri forgave him. Now if only he could forgive himself…

* * *

The stone was glittering black with red streaks. It held so much memory, so much significance, carried in a special, hidden pocket. It had acted as a beacon of hope and had even saved his memory once. Obi-Wan turned it over in his hands, watching it glitter in the pre-dawn light.

He could feel Qui-Gon's sleeping presence at the back of his mind, constant and warm, beneath the whirlwind of his thoughts. Looking back, he didn't know how he had gone for so long without it – it was so _normal_, so familiar. He didn't want to wake his mentor, just sit and think; be alone for a time. He had to get his head sorted.

Yes, he had done some terrible things. True, no one was dead, but to Obi-Wan it was the principal of the matter rather than the accompanying actions that worried him. He had killed an somewhat innocent person – well, someone incredibly guilty of crimes against the galaxy, but it still hadn't been Jedi-like – in cold blood, attacked his own Master and a close friend on two separate occasions and become involved in an alley-way fight; mixed up with mercenaries. They were _all_ un-Jedi like.

The memory of the darkness lingered. He could still feel it within him, lurking at the very back corners of his mind.

He had become a monster. The thing which he fought against. He had manipulated others with the Force, given into his emotions. How could the Jedi accept him back with such welcome and comfort after that? How could they pretend like nothing had happened? Or would they all be extra nice to his face and talk about him in hushed tones behind his back?

There was no excuse for the things he had done…attacking his _Master_! That was an exileable offence. He had turned his back on the Jedi Order – _again_ – and drawn his sabre against Qui-Gon – _again_. Caused pain and suffering knowingly.

How could they be so open and calm towards him? Others would be spurned and turned away, seen as scum, yet he was welcomed back? It did not feel right to him; not at all…or was he going to be allowed to heal and rest here, then be cast out, gently shoved aside?

Obi-Wan shook his head dislodging the thoughts. Of course not. These were the sorts of thoughts that got him into the mess in the first place. He let his emotions get the better of him – but here, the Light Side of the Force was with him, always, and would provide answers and support for him, letting him let go of his emotions and become the Jedi he should be for others.

Obi-Wan guessed he should be thankful, for what had happened. What might have happened to him, had Qui-Gon not come looking for him and found him, Obi-Wan had put out of his mind. The images and ideas were sickening to think about. What if, what if?

The sun was beginning to break over the buildings of the city. Obi-Wan looked towards it, the same light growing in his heart. One day, he would be at peace with it all. He'd talk about it in even, steady tones and prove there is always redemption.

Redemption…Obi-Wan remembered the day in the academy when Qui-Gon had been struck down: it was as if the last few weeks hadn't happened…one moment, he was yelling, angry, using the Darkness, the next he was healing and prepared to give up his life for another.

Obi-Wan couldn't remember the moment of change where the Darkness stopped and the Light retuned…it had just _happened_…

He looked down at the stone in his hands. Qui-Gon saw that altruistic instinct as proof of the truth: maybe, just maybe, he was right…

Maybe Obi-Wan would let this all go.

In time, he was sure he would.

* * *

Only the epilouge left now...


	25. Epilogue

So it's come to this. The final part of this story – and what a ride it's been! To all who ever read, reviewed, favourited or alerted this story, thank you. So much. You've all been so supportive and encouraging throughout it all. 

This is just a brief epilogue. It probably wasn't needed, but I liked it.

This story began as a gift to a friend. As I kept writing I decided to put it up online: but behind it all, this story is dedicated to, and always has been to, Tawa.

* * *

_One Month Later…_

Qui-Gon palmed opened the door to an empty apartment. When he had left, Obi-Wan had been sitting on the couch, reading a datapad in the central room of the apartment – now he was nowhere to be seen. It was early evening – the room was dimly lit with floor and wall globes, their light brightening as night set in, but they still illuminated an empty room.

Placing his own datapad on the table, Qui-Gon reached out to the bond, trying to find Obi-Wan. The presence was strong - he was close, evidently, and within a few moments Qui-Gon saw him – he was on the small balcony off to one side of the apartment, leaning on the railing, watching the city.

Qui-Gon walked over and out of the open door, feeling the cool air of the evening wash over him. Obi-Wan looked up briefly as he approached, before turning his gaze back to the city before him, but looking past the buildings and lost in thought.

The past month had been…interesting. After Obi-Wan had recovered enough to support his own weight and be able to move around, he had returned to the apartment he shared with Qui-Gon, to finish his recuperation somewhere more familiar and private. Qui-Gon himself had heard the rumours of what had happened on his daily business around the Temple, and, although most had faded by now, he had been slightly thankful the truth had not been among them. Some of the younger Initiates would presumably have been affected had they known what really went on – trust was a fragile thing to those that young.

But with Obi-Wan's recovery had come the normal, accepted story: a Padawan injured on a mission – it was not uncommon, and so there was no real reason for others to oppose it with speculation.

Qui-Gon studied his apprentice for a moment. Obi-Wan had been changed due to the ordeal – after all, who wouldn't have? – and was quieter than he had been before. The light had not completely returned to his eyes; he kept to himself a lot, meditating alone for long periods of time; and Qui-Gon had not seen him truly smile since that day in the infirmary. It was a change from the restless yet mature Jedi Qui-Gon had become accustomed to. Obi-Wan also had not spoken of the ordeal itself, aside from a few general comments in response to Qui-Gon's searching questions, and all Qui-Gon knew other than that was from fragmented dreams that he sometimes saw.

At the moment, Obi-Wan appeared to be deep in thought, but Qui-Gon could feel the guilt swirling within him. It was obvious what he was thinking about; as it was never far from his mind.

Qui-Gon moved up to stand next to Obi-Wan, copying his stance and leaning on the railing. "Let it go, Obi-Wan," he said gently.

Obi-Wan looked down at his hands where they were resting on the rail. "It's so hard to, Master. I've been trying, but it seems to be etched into my very soul. The guilt is never ending…I can't get my actions out of my head."

"I _have_ noticed. You must have faith in yourself, look past the things you've done and concentrate on the now. What's done is done; you and I cannot change it. Right now, right here, is what matters. Dwelling on it will do no good."

Obi-Wan took a moment to consider his mentor's words. Qui-Gon was right, of course, but it was _hard_. He had tried time and time again to let everything go, let life resume, but something always remained that pulled everything back to him and he felt worse than he had before he tried releasing it. He sighed quietly.

"I still cannot come to terms with my actions, Master. I became a monster…how do I know that I will not turn back?"

"You know yourself, and no one else can tell you otherwise."

Obi-Wan reached out to the warmth of the Force, letting it fill and calm him. "Perhaps I am looking at this wrong. I should not dwell on it, I know that. I should look on it as a lesson, or perhaps a warning, do you think?"

"I think that would help put things in perspective, yes." Qui-Gon said quietly.

Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment. "It was a lesson about the Dark Side and the effects of it…what it does to a person in themselves, what it does to those around them, how it tempts in the times of despair and pain."

"And as a warning?"

"As a warning, it is a warning against the Darkness and how easy it seems to take, the illusions puts upon those who use it. Perhaps there will come a time when I will have to face it again, or be careful not to give into it…maybe this ordeal will end up saving me." Obi-Wan looked thoughtful, staring into the empty air.

Qui-Gon noticed with a slight smile how far Obi-Wan had progressed in his training. Who knew how much longer they had together as Master and Padawan? Obi-Wan was mature beyond his years, his skills were formidable and he was wiser than many. The chain of reasoning here, for instance, was an example of Obi-Wan's understanding and control over the situation.

"I am going to meditate, my Padawan," Qui-Gon said, placing a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. The Force was hinting to him that Obi-Wan needed to be alone, to try and come to terms with himself and forgive himself. Obi-Wan looked up at him and smiled briefly – a mere shadow of the expression Qui-Gon knew – as his Master returned inside.

Obi-Wan continued to look out at the city. No matter what the reason the Force had behind what had happened to him, and to Qui-Gon and those that helped, Obi-Wan knew one thing – never again would he tread anywhere near the Darkness. Not if the Temple fell, or his Master died, or something else horrible happened. He would always know the Light was with him and never turn his back on it again.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan attempted, once again, to let everything go into the Force, like he had been taught. He felt something leave, fade away, and felt a little better.

He wanted to let it all go, but what was blocking him? He felt guilty, shocked, disappointed in himself and like a failure to the Order and Qui-Gon. Frowning, Obi-Wan reached deeper into the Force, searching for the answers and guidance.

"_You know yourself, and no one else can tell you otherwise."_

Qui-Gon's words, spoken minutes before, came back to him. He had to forgive himself. He had thought he had succeeded weeks before, but now, with the help of the Force, Obi-Wan realised what it was; what was hindering the healing. He had forgiven himself, meaning he had been regretful, and apologetic, but _he had not accepted his own apology_. It seemed strange to think about, but it was true.

Calming himself, he considered his actions and who and what he had affected. He remembered the feel of the Darkness and accepted that he had used it knowingly. He accepted what he had done, and who to, and the consequences of those actions. He confronted the fears about his return and re-acceptance to the Order, and about his standing in the eyes of the Jedi Council and those he cared about.

And, finally, he let it go.

Not all of it, as he could still feel a residing guilt that would fade with time, but much of the burden on his mind was lifted. He would move on, as was fit for a Jedi, but remember the experience and learn from it.

'_Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it. Those who live in the past are condemned to never escape it.'_ The old lesson, drilled into him from early years in the Temple, came back to him. It was true, he supposed, and what he needed to do. Move on but not forget, remember but not dwell.

Obi-Wan sighed, feeling happier for the first time in weeks, and headed back inside. Qui-Gon looked up as his apprentice entered, noticing Obi-Wan's change in demenour. His steps were lighter, not those of one weighed down by a terrible experience, and his eyes showed the humourous light shining from within - the same light that Obi-Wan had always had.

And, he was smiling. A true, relaxed smile.

Qui-Gon rose and embraced his Padawan, smiling himself.

Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise.

* * *

The last line is from the musical Les Miserables, which I'm currently rehearsing for.

If, by some miracle, you like my writing, keep a look out for a new story – _Going, Going, Gone!_ Coming soon… _Jedi are going missing. When Qui-Gon becomes the latest to vanish, Obi-Wan is teamed up with Kit and Siri to get to the bottom of it: but what they uncover is more than they bargained for…an auction for Jedi slaves._

Once again, thank you all for your support and kind words! May the Force be with you all...always.


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